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“You can’t afford any breaks, not now.” He cursed and drew me with him, down the hallway and into the empty gymnasium.

He sat on a bleacher and murmured, “You took off early.”

I didn’t respond, but hugged myself. Trying to hold in the blistering rage.

“Taryn,” he began, softening his voice slightly, “you have to shut it off. You just have to. Being emotional will end up getting us killed. This isn’t some fucking high school prank—this is you and me playing a game that could get us killed. You’re right, you do need me on this and this is how it has to be.”

“But I can’t—”

He stood up and said sternly, “You have to or I walk. That’s the deal. There’s no other way.”

I glared at him, hating him in that moment.

Tray grinned at me and pulled me against him. Encircling an arm around my waist, he bent and whispered against my lips, “Why don’t we skip and go screw each other’s brains out?”

It had some appeal.

“We skipped almost all of last week. I don’t think I can afford it.”

Tray shrugged. “It’s not like you’ll get into trouble.”

There was that again—the elite—they could fucking get away with whatever the fuck they wanted to. But I’d been included recently, so I could get away with it too. I was such a hypocrite.

Brian’s dead. The reminder popped in my head—bringing me back to reality. I’d forgotten, for a few minutes, but I had. I clamped down on the guilt that speared my body.

“I gotta talk to the counselor about Mandy, too,” I murmured.

“Fuck that. Your folks should have to do it.”

“Yeah,” I bit out, “because they’re always around, aren’t they?”

“Come on. Let’s go to my place and spend the rest of the day in bed. It’d be good for you.”

“So I can enjoy sex when Brian’s dead.”

Tray pulled away, but not completely. It had worked, partially, but Tray watched me. And I knew he figured it out when the corner of his mouth curved upwards, “Not going to work, baby. I’m not going to ‘rescue’ you and tell you it’s alright and you don’t have to feel guilty that you’re still living. You know that shit and besides, the guy seemed to love you. He wouldn’t want you to go down that route, Taryn.”

I knew he was right, but—fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I’m sorry,” I slipped out, my hands twisting in my hair. “I’m just…I can’t handle this, I can’t not do anything, I can’t just sit in class, I can’t jus—”

Tray slammed his mouth against mine and an explosion erupted inside me. It was what I needed and I met him full-force, drowning in him. My hands wrapped around his neck as I hoisted myself up, my legs wrapped around him and he walked us against the wall. Pressing against me, he licked, sucked, kissed, and caressed my mouth.

“God—” I moaned, raking my hands through his hair, holding him tightly against me.

“Okay, laps around—”

Of course, there had to be a gym class first period. The teacher stopped in shock, students milling around him, trying to see what stopped him.

“Mr. Evans and Miss Matthews!” he reprimanded.

Tray held me in place as he lifted his head lazily and grinned at the teacher. “Hey, Mr. Martson.”

“This is not appropriate behavior and the two of you are missing your classes.”

I grinned, leaning my forehead into Tray’s neck.

“Well, you see, Mr. Martson,” Tray began, flashing a charming smile, “this isn’t what it looks like.”

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