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Eleven
I faked sick dozens if not dozens upon dozens of times in my academic career, but the following day at school, there was no faking. I was damn sick and had Rosanna call in for me. Dad was still away on his business trip, and she was signed up on my account as his parental backup. I stayed home that day both sleeping, recuperating, and playing with Hershey. The following, I had work, and not wanting to explain that absence, I went to school.
That didn’t mean I had to like it.
Honestly, I anticipated how school would be after I’d challenged no doubt one of the most popular girls in school to a drink off, basically kicked her ass, then nearly killed her all in the same night. I figured there’d be whispers, stares, and still battling the effects of my own illness, I attended class with a strong headache and an aversion to any kind of food, Pop-Tarts or otherwise. I highly considered wearing sunglasses inside, but didn’t want any more attention than I already got.
Which was a lot, by the way. I got those whispers. I got those stares, but it all also came with something else.
“Dude, that was frickin’ sweet the other night,” said basically the entire male swim team. They’d been heading to a meet while I’d been waiting in the hallway for Birdie. I’d texted her before school I was finally getting my ass up to go in, and she told me to wait by her locker. I did and received no less than half a dozen acknowledgments from the swim team, both men and women, shout-outs from members of the boys’ basketball and baseball teams, and even a few cheerleaders.
“Thank you so much for standing up to her,” a cheerleader said, patting my shoulder. By then, Birdie had found me, and when she raised her hand for a high five, I gave it to her with my jaw dropped. People were either going crazy or seriously demented in this place. I mean, I almost killed a girl.
“Are they frickin’ serious right now?” I asked, receiving another pat but from some actual Court kept girls this time. They wore the necklaces Birdie had pointed out to me at the party with their uniforms. I faced Birdie. “They do know she’s still in the hospital, right?” I knew because Birdie had been giving me a play-by-play via text during my time away. She’d failed to mention I’d somehow become a goddamn hero, though.
Birdie threw an arm around my shoulder, guiding me into second period English. “Girl, you’re going to have to get used to it, because you’re one hundred percent everyone’s she-ro right now. You know, female hero?” She nudged me, easing herself inside her desk while I took mine. “That asshole has been calling me Big Bird for as long as I remember, and you stood up to her.”
“And nearly killed her.”
She blew a raspberry. “She’ll live, and you’re going down in history.”
“Why?”
The boys of the Court came in, Royal amongst them. Jax, LJ, and Knight made up the rear, and the entire posse collectively chilled in the back of the room.
I shrank, but definitely noticed something as Royal and the others got out their books for class. They all very much didn’t take notice of me, nor did they bullshit right away in the back like they usually did. They sat quiet, waiting for Mr. Pool to start with their books and pens.
I turned, Birdie in my periphery when she leaned over.
“The Court hasn’t said a word about you,” she whispered, turning a little before facing me. “There’s a reason people don’t mess with girls like Mira. They’re basically Court property and wouldn’t want to test it and piss them off. You’re bold, girl. They’re not even messing with you.”
“All right, group. Pop quiz today. Put away your books, and I’ll hand out your exams.”
A collective groan filtered through the classroom after Mr. Pool’s announcement, but not from the back of the room. The boys put their books away, and that’s when Royal’s gaze slid in my direction, a silent exchange between us before he faced forward. Birdie said they wouldn’t mess with me, but I wasn’t so sure.
I’d been prepared for the quiz and actually did pretty well on it. Birdie couldn’t say the same but pounded my fist, exclaiming she’d see me at lunch. I waited for Royal outside the classroom. I wanted to talk to him about what happened the other night, another one of his threats amongst other things. He saw me as soon as he left, but sliding on his cross-body bag, he parted off the other way with his boys, leaving me standing there in the middle of the hallway.
Shit.
That continued on with the rest of the day, me trying to play it cool and juggling attention while Royal deliberately avoided me. Typically, that wouldn’t bother me since I did what I could not to step on his toes. Birdie was right about one thing, crossing the Court wasn’t in my best interest, and somehow I’d managed to owe one of them.
I pushed through the rest of the day, but lost every opportunity to corner Royal. He was either surrounded by friends or in classes I didn’t have or failed to have access to. By the end of the day, I balanced a headache stimulated from tension and my activities from a night that’d gone terribly wrong. I’d heard Mira was fine, but she was still in the hospital. She’d be back when she had strength enough was the rumor.
I slammed my locker, ending my day with a rush to the exit. I figured hiding at home for a few days would do me some good, but I had work tonight, not that I couldn’t miss school anyway.
I kicked a rock by the sidewalk of student pick-up and drop-off, waiting for Hubert. He was late for some reason, and checking my phone, I confirmed that.
Dialing, I called to see what was up, and when I only got voicemail, I shot him a text.
“Lindquist?”
A black Escalade with silver rims and chrome trim had its window rolled down in front of me, a guy’s hand on the wheel. The boy was none other than Knight Reed, right-hand man to Royal Prinze himself. Huge, he filled up the whole front of the cabin, staring at me over jet-black shades.
I turned, thinking he couldn’t have been talking to me despite saying my name, and when I made eye contact, his eyes lifted to the ceiling of his ride.
He pulled his sunglasses off, his hair moused blades. “Yes, I just said your name, and yeah, I’m talking to you.”
I stood, pressing my skirt down and feeling hesitant. “Okay?”
