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“I’m glad. You can both collect tardy slips from Mrs. Wheland on your way out.”
Savannah moves toward the door, flashing me a conciliatory, apologetic smile as she wipes the tears from her cheek. It takes me a few seconds to get my body to move, then I’m striding after her, my footfalls heavy. She’s already picking up her tardy slip when I reach Mrs. Wheland’s desk, and the middle-aged woman with the bottle-blonde bob hands me a slip too.
I mutter a thanks under my breath, barely looking at her. The second Savannah and I are back out in the hallway, I grab her shoulder, spinning her around to face me.
The kings all waited for us outside the office, and at the sight of me stepping up to Savannah, they move to flank me quickly, though I see confusion flash in their eyes.
They don’t know why they’re backing me up yet, but they’re doing it anyway.
“What the fuck?” I hiss, glaring at Savannah.
I want to scream it, but I
know if this altercation gets too obvious, we’ll end up right back in the principal’s office—and considering he just said he didn’t want to see us again, that could only end badly.
The sadness, the contrition, and the puppy-dog innocence in her expression disappear like someone flipped a switch. Tears still gleam in her eyes, still dampen her cheeks, but they look incongruous and out of place on her face now.
“See, Pool Girl?” She sneers and arches a brow. “It’s not that hard. If you were better at it, maybe you wouldn’t have been expelled in the first place.”
“I got expelled because you sabotaged me!”
Fuck, that was louder than it should’ve been. Hands wrap around my upper arms, squeezing in warning, and I suck in a deep breath, forcing my body to relax. It’s poised and tense like I’m about to go into battle.
“I could still tell the whole school your dirty little secret, Savannah,” I mutter, my voice strained. “So watch the fuck out.”
Her features stiffen, the look of helpless fear and anger returning for a second. Satisfaction flares through me, but I don’t let myself celebrate. When animals feel trapped, they’re more likely to bite.
Her lips curl, and she takes a step closer to me, lowering her voice.
“Don’t worry, Pool Girl. I won’t mess with your tests anymore. But murderers don’t belong here. Everyone knows that. And if I don’t get rid of you, someone else will.”
21
I spend most of the weekend trying to catch up on schoolwork I missed—again.
Trent returns to school on Monday, and even though he’s had a few days to heal up, his face still looks pretty bad. Anyone who hadn’t already figured out that his “flu” was a lie knows it by now. The rumor spreading around the school is that he was jumped over the weekend outside some club downtown—which happens to be exactly what happened.
But none of the kings’ names are ever mentioned in connection with the assault. Most people have no idea who did it, and the few who do know aren’t saying shit.
Trent isn’t protecting the guys with his silence. He’s protecting himself. He sounded almost hopeful when he asked if they were even that night, but I’m sure he knows if he rats them out, they won’t be.
And he’s not dumb enough to start a war with these boys.
The man in black, Iris’s death, my mom’s arrest—we’re all in over our heads as far as that shit goes.
But here? Inside the walls of Linwood Academy?
The four kings really do rule.
Maybe that’s why, despite Savannah’s cryptic warning to me, the entire week passes without incident.
No more of my tests or quizzes get fucked with, and Mr. Osterhaut instructed my teachers to allow me to catch up on the assignments I missed.
The second half of this semester has been rough. Mentally, emotionally—and sometimes literally—I just haven’t been here for it. But it matters to my mom that I do well, so I cling to my passing grades like a mountain climber on a sheer rock face.
On the Saturday before finals week, I go see her again. I went last weekend too, but it’s been harder to fit in more frequent visits while trying to stay on top of school. Her entire body seemed to loosen with relief when I told her I got re-admitted to Linwood, and even though I was glad I could deliver good news, I hated that she’d spent a week worrying about me.
“So, are you ready for all your tests?” she asks, after we’ve gone through our usual greeting and inane chitchat.
