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Elliot fucking Lancaster. Ofcourse.
If anyone knew what it’d take to get rid of someone like Vivian, it’d be the king of torment himself.
Vivian’s gaze darted between my own eyes, trying to figure me out, trying to locate my weak spots from the outside-in.Somethingtold me that even if Ididn’ttry anything, she’d still do everything in her power to make my life miserable. I couldn’t let her get to me. Not this time.
“You’re on.”
4
I’d spent the last hour holed in up my room, my finger hovering over thesendbutton.
It hadn’t been hard to find him. Elliot Lancaster was the first user that popped up in myInstagramsearch history—and I felt no shame. His account was public, so after scrolling through photos of him shirtless at the beach and ruggedselfieswith his buddies, I’d drafted a vague little message and pasted it into his DM.
Point blank, I was asking him for help. With what, I wouldn’t specify, not until we spoke about it in person. Even if Elliot had grown out of his bullying phase over the summer, I didn’t want to risk more evidence of my desperation going viral.
I closed my eyes and counted to three.
When I looked at my screen again, I clicked.
The message was sent.
I flopped back onto my bed, pressing my phone against my chest as I looked up at the ceiling. It was more coated than the walls of bathroom stalls at Woodman, but tamer. The white tiles were speckled with tributes to moments of young love scrawled in Sharpie, partially washed out hearts and names next to the occasionalFuck this schoolorFollow me @…
My phone vibrated. I lurched upward, sitting on the edge of the bed as I looked at the screen.
U free now?
That was all. Quick reply.
Again, I closed my eyes, breathed till the count of three and texted back,Yeah.
I looked at the time. Vivian had gone for lunch with Luna. If Elliot wanted to see me now, I’d either have to go trek the thirty minutes back to Powell, or he’d have to come here. Even if Vivian was gone, I didn’t want to risk her showing up in the middle of our scheming against her.
My phone vibrated again. I swiped the message open like my phone would explode if I didn’t.
I can pick u up in 10.
There. No questions asked.
Elliot was coming to whisk me away from my dorm and back into his world—not quite high school, but his own territory, nonetheless.
My heart already was beating like it was on fire.
I took in a couple drawn-out breaths as I rolled off my bed to pull on some shoes. The deep breathing was supposed to remind me that my visit was for one purpose, and one purpose only—use Elliot to my advantage, not the other way around.
The warning signs were clear. Dousing all my clothes in ketchup was all the fun Vivian needed to have for me know that if I didn’t do something, I’d have to endure more harmless “jokes” for the next ten months. I’d gone down this path before, saw where it took me, and didn’t want to go there again. Ever.
I was going to break the cycle, but I couldn’t do it alone.
A few minutes went by as I paced the room until a car horn honked from outside. Narrowing my eyes, I peeped through the window blinds to see Elliot’s arm hanging out the window of his car, just like the night before. Even though there were multiple cars parked outthere, he honked again, as if there weren’t a hundred other kids waiting for rides of their own. He didn’t have a care in the world.
I grabbed my purse, room key, and glanced in the mirror before heading out the door. Thankfully, Tara and I were about the same size, and my shirt tucked into her shorts without hassle.
Another breath.
Okay.
I tugged open the door, veered down the hall, and resisted the urge to vomit as the butterflies increased in my stomach. As I waited at the elevator, it occurred to me that I didn’t know what to say to him. After all, he’d finger-fucked me just hours ago.
