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“What the fuck, Thorn? I thought we agreed.” Jax. He sounds mad.
“No. You dictated. I didn’t agree to shit.”
“First Ace and now you, this is getting out of hand.”
“Fuck off.” I’m not used to angry Ace. “Don’t blame me.”
“You’ve both slept with her. You ARE to blame.”
“Better that than running away.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I saw you leaving her room the other night. Looked like you couldn’t get out of there fast enough. At least she knows we like her.”
Shit, Thorn saw us? My stomach twists. I don’t like where this is headed. I don’t like that Rebel is silent.
“You can’t play with her emotions like that.”
“Fuck you. I’m not playing. Unlike you.” Thorn is getting really mad now, his control slipping and his voice rising.
“It’s fucking complicated,” Jax spits.
“Yeah, but does she know that? Have you spoken to her since or are you giving her the cold shoulder? Surely she deserves to know why you’re being such a dick to her!”
“Shut up. I’m not discussing it with you. Guys, we need to be more careful. I do not want this turning into another Lizzie situation.”
“FUCK!” Rebel roars, and it’s followed by a dull thud that I know is the sound of him punching something or someone. Shit. What should I do? Step around the corner and break this - whatever this is - up? Or wait and let it burn out?
“Fuck you Rebel! What the fuck did you hit me for?” Ah, so it was Thorn that got punched. Another dull thud. Another.
Shit. Time to intervene. I rush around the corner to the side of the hotel entryway. This part’s in darkness with a single low light casting shadows on my group of guys. Rebel’s standing to one side, punching the wall and even from a distance, and in the dark, I can see that his knuckles are bleeding profusely. Thorn’s sat on his ass, tentatively touching his lip which looks split. Ace is checking if Thorn’s okay and Jax is standing with his arms folded glaring at me. Wait, what? Why the fuck is he glaring at me like this is somehow all my fault?
I push past him, refusing to rise to his bait. I can chew him out some other time. My gut screams at me to go to Rebel first, but I rush over to Thorn to check that he’s okay. When he sees me, he quickly scrambles to his feet and gives me a rueful grin. It makes him wince slightly.
“What the fuck is going on here?” I shout at them. It wasn’t my intention at all, but now that I’m here anger seems to work well for me too. “I leave you alone for five fucking minutes, and you’re at each other’s fucking throats? What the actual fuck!” Whoa, I realise that’s a lot of f-bombs even for me. I feel too far gone to stop now, the adrenaline of the night taking me over.
Ace steps towards me, palms up in a placating gesture but I sidestep him and storm over to Rebel. Finger-pointing, I step forward and poke him in the chest. “What the fuck is your fucking problem, Lennox?” It’s not my finest move; he’s made of fucking granite, and I’m pretty sure the sharp shooting pain running through my finger means I may have just broken it, but I’m beyond feeling at this point.
“You are such a dick. You all are. I’ve had the most perfect night until now, and you’re all ruining it for me!”
Amazingly, those words are what do it. Instantly Jax looks contrite. Ace looks sorry, and Thorn looks ashamed. Rebel won’t look at me, but his shoulders have slumped forward in defeat.
“I want to go home.”
“Of course, sorry, it’s late. We should go back to the house.” Jax starts to usher us towards the waiting limo.
“I mean, I want to go back to my dorm. I think I should move back. I’ll collect my stuff tomorrow.”
Disappointment flashes in his eyes, but he nods and doesn’t try to fight me. I would’ve been leaving in another day or two anyway before the other students came back, but it’s probably best if I just go now before things get any bloodier.
Without a word, we enter the limo and once again, no one sits beside me. This time though, I’m not the star attraction as none of them meets my eye. There’s no music or champagne or flirting. There’s tension, but this time it isn’t sexual. The atmosphere’s electric, but in all the worst ways. It’s too dark to see anything out of the window, so the journey becomes impossibly long and uncomfortable as I stare at my clenched hands in my lap. No one speaks at all the whole way back.
When we pull up outside the main entrance to the school, my heart hammers in my chest. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to go back to my room on my own. I don’t want to leave things like this. But I also don’t know what to say. I am not weak, and I don’t see crying as a sign of weakness, ever. Which is why when I turn to the guys and thank them for making yesterday the best night of my life, I don’t attempt to hide them from the tears that are sliding down my face. It’s true, my last day of 2018 was fantastic. It was 2019 where it all went to shit.
I meet their gazes - well all except Rebel’s who still won’t look at me - unflinchingly. They all look awful. Guilty. Sorry. Tormented. Good. They should feel bad. They took something perfect and broke it with their own petty jealousies and fighting.
I exit the limo alone this time and walk towards the school with my head held high. I don’t look back, even when Rebel calls my name.
