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“You don’t need to go preaching to me. I already get it. We had nothing to do with it. You want me to keep on saying the same shit to you?” I asked.
We stepped forward, making it to the cash register. Heather ordered for herself and Sian while I handled my and the guys’ order.
I refused to let her pay, taking care of the bill with a single swipe of my credit card.
“I can pay,” Heather said.
“Yeah, and now you don’t have to. Consider it a gift.”
“Don’t hurt my friend.”
Before I could say anything, Heather walked away, annoying me. She had no right to tell me what the fuck to do.
I arrived at the table to silence. Taking a seat, I tapped my fingers on the counter and counted to ten.
“So, this isn’t awkward at all,” I said.
Mateo smirked.
“I think it’s best if we eat somewhere else.” Sian nudged Heather as if to get me to move.
“It has been a killer week,” Gideon said. “I don’t even want to know what Coach has planned for us all.”
“I thought I was going to die with all the running,” Heather said.
“What about Mr. Connors?” Mateo asked. “The dude is fucking weird.”
“I don’t see the reason to go about the whole relationship stuff.” Sian pushed some hair out of her face. “We all know why it’s suddenly a big deal. The school is trying to delicately handle the whole date-rape drug stuff. They should just make a stand and say it’s fucking wrong. Don’t do it.”
“Agreed,” William said.
“What do you think it’s really all about?” Gideon asked.
“Possible manipulation,” Sian said.
“Of what?” Heather asked. “Do you think the school is going to try to brainwash us into thinking some fucked-up relationships make sense?”
“Probably. Don’t get me wrong, we know some of us are going to end up in arranged marriages. It’s all about power and greed. Money makes our world go around. If they’re not rolling in wealth, they’re out of there. I heard a girl a couple of years back, her family went broke.”
“Brooke…” I snapped my fingers, trying to remember her name. “Drawing a blank here.”
“Highweather,” Heather said.
“My point is her family lost her fortune, she lost her place at school, and you can’t even remember her name,” Sian said. “None of us are in control of our futures. It’s already decided for us.”
I heard the hint of sadness in her voice. “Go on, spill. What’s being controlled with your future?”
“That’s my business and my parents’.”
We all stared at Sian.
“I’m going to say career choice,” Gideon said.
“What makes you think that?”
“Your parents are lawyers. If my memory serves me well, your entire family are lawyers.”
“Or doctors,” Sian said. “Yep, that is me.”
“And you don’t want to be a doctor?” I asked.
“I don’t know what I want to be.”
From the look Heather gave her, I knew it was a lie. Sian knew what she wanted out of life and it wasn’t to remember the law of the land.
Our food came, and I made a mental note of the vegan pizza Sian ate. Heather wrinkled her nose and Sian took a large bite. The two were clearly close, which was another thing that annoyed me.
We ate in silence. The meal wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t great because the tension in the room was high. We were all tense, waiting for whatever argument was going to come next.
Heather and Sian finished their food first and thanked us, but left.
I wanted to follow her, but I kept my ass in my seat.
“Do you think she has any idea what her parents do?” Dante asked.
“Not a chance. I think if Sian knew what her parents were involved with, she would’ve run fucking miles by now.” I brought my attention back to the table. “What are we going to do about Chloe? That video is a big fuck-you to all of us. We run the school. She needs to learn to get in line.”
“I’ve already got it covered,” Gideon said. “She wants to play this game, then she needs to realize she’s messing with the professionals.”
Chapter Five
Sian
When the video of me went around the whole school—and I knew it did with the way everyone reacted at Gino’s—I was thankful I didn’t have a cell phone. Walking through the quad on Monday, I expected more stares, more gossip. The laughter. Just getting to Gino’s I’d encountered lots of laughter and mockery.
“It’s the fat slob.”
“Beware, fatties invading.”
“Was it the ghost who eats fat?”
The fat jokes, barbs, comments, and just general vicious attacks were not unexpected. It seemed to be the only original thing they could come up with. Let’s bully the fat girl who’d been pranked.
Ha ha, ha, so funny. Give me a second while I burst out laughing. Not! Assholes.
I passed several people in my year. None of them even glanced at me, but they were staring at their cell phones, hands covering their mouths as if they were seeing something shocking.
