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Translation: she’d probably refused to put out for one – or all three – of those asshats, and they’d decided to make her life a living hell because their fragile little egos couldn’t take the rejection.
“There has to be something the school can do,” I mused. “This has to be against their policy about bullying and harassment.”
“Maybe. But Max’s parents have money, and they spoil him rotten. They’d just pay to make it go away. And none of the teachers or administration want to risk crossing them because money buys expensive lawyers. So they just sweep shit under the rug. All the time.”
“Like what?” I asked, curious just how much of a dickwad the guy was.
But before Braden could answer me, the bell rang and Mr. Reinhart started talking about molarity and chemical compounds.
Once again, my mind wandered, this time wondering what exactly this school was covering up for Max and his friends.
And if I really wanted to know. Because I was almost positive that I wouldn’t like the answers I found.
