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We owned that school, Kyle and I. The star quarterback and the cheer captain, a match made in romance heaven. Jealousy and desire followed us like a cloud. The haters and the wannabes couldn’t keep our names out of their mouths. Every day was another rush of drama, an ego-feeding frenzy as the kids who had it all lorded it over those who didn’t.
It wasn’t as if I was unaware of it. I could look at myself in the mirror and point out every point of toxicity I carried, laugh about it, and carry on. Why care? Why change? I had everything I was supposed to want.
But our heavenly romance could swiftly descend into hell. When the King and Queen squabbled, pawns were sacrificed.
Not this time. It had to be different this time.
I took a slow drive past Manson’s parents’ house first, scanning the junk-covered yard for a glimpse of his lifted Bronco. I was glad not to see it there. If warning him meant walking up to that big dilapidated house and seeing one of his parents, I didn’t think I could do it. His dad gave me the creeps.
I hoped my next destination would be correct. My tires crunched in the weeds as I pulled over beside the vacant lot, located at the end of a dirt road hidden by trees. The house that had once occupied the land had burned down years ago, leaving behind only a charred framework and a concrete foundation. Hope mingled with anxiety in my chest when I spotted twovehicles parked there: a dirty gray Ford Bronco on massive tires, and a midnight black El Camino.
I took a long, slow breath. The Bronco meant Manson was here, which was a relief. But the El Camino meant Lucas was with him, which probably meant Vincent and Jason were here too.
A whole gang of freaks, and me. The girl who had purposefully tormented them throughout every year of high school thus far.
I rummaged in my purse until I found a stick of bubblegum and chewed it viciously. Maybe it would help control my tongue when I went up there. I wasn’t on good terms with any of these boys. It was simple — they hated me, and I despised them. That was the hierarchy. Yes, I’d made out with Manson, and I’d had someveryclose encounters with the rest of them. But that didn’t mean we got along.
It also didn’t mean I wanted Manson to walk straight into the ambush that would be waiting for him tomorrow.
I slammed the car door and shoved my hands into the pockets of my hoodie as I traipsed through the overgrown lot toward the back of the house’s burned frame. The night air smelled like bonfire smoke and sour marijuana. The clatter of skateboards hitting concrete landed sharply in my ears as I rounded the house and laid eyes on the empty pool the boys liked to skate in. The concrete sides were covered in graffiti, and the area was illuminated only by the fires that had been lit in two large metal drums.
Vincent Volkov spotted me first. Perched on the gray bricks of an old wall, he had his long legs crossed beneath him. His joint went slack in his mouth when he saw me. He didn’t say anything as the smoke slowly curled from his lips, enveloping his face and his long, messy hair.
It was Jason Roth who gave away my arrival. He’d always been the quiet one, the good kid. But his life had imploded over thesummer, when the rumor went around that he and Vincent were dating. It shouldn’t have mattered to anyone, but unfortunately, there were plenty of people in Wickeston with a stick up their ass who clutched their pearls at the very thought of two men being together. Including Jason’s own family.
Some people claimed his parents kicked him out, others said he’d gotten himself emancipated from them. Regardless of what was true, Jason had shown up senior year with his hair buzzed off, dyed bright blue, and his earlobes stretched with large black tunnels. The new look seemed like a giant middle finger to everyone who’d tried to make him feel ashamed.
“Fucking hell.” Jason’s blue eyes fell on me with such cold hatred that I didn’t dare take another step toward the pool. He had his laptop open, playing “Awful Things” by Lil Peep from the crackling speakers. But he snapped it shut, cutting off the music. There was a screech of polyurethane wheels and Manson popped up from the pool, with Lucas close behind him.
“What the hell are you doing here, Jess?” Manson’s voice was deep — a vicious baritone as dark as the black band tattooed around his upper arm. He usually spiked his hair into a mohawk for school, but the dark locks he kept in a long strip at the top of his head were loose tonight.
“I was looking for you,” I said, as if that wasn’t already obvious.
I didn’t want to linger in the dark with them any longer than necessary. I had power in daylight, in the fluorescent halls of Wickeston High, where my status and Kyle’s backing gave my words weight.
But this was their turf. I wasn’t foolish enough to think I had a level playing field here. Especially not with Lucas staring at me as if his dark eyes alone could cause me to spontaneously combust. The only smile he ever wore was the stick-and-poke happy face tattooed under his right eye. His fists were clenched, his hands scarred from the fights that had gotten himcontinually suspended and eventually expelled.
“Kyle is out for blood, Manson,” I blurted. His expression didn’t change; he looked spectral in the flickering firelight, the flames making his cheeks hollower and his jaw sharper. “He found out.”
“Hefound out, or did you tell him?” Only the shift in Manson’s breathing showed his fear. I knew what he looked like when he was afraid, nervous, angry. His locker was right next to mine, and I’d spent enough time pushing his buttons to know what each and every emotion looked like.
“It doesn’t matter how he found out.” I folded my arms, chewing my gum faster as my nervousness rose. Vincent hopped down from the wall, tugging his black beanie lower on his head as he came to stand beside Jason. “Don’t come to school tomorrow. Give him time to cool down.”
Manson laughed bitterly. “No. We’re not going to be catering to your boyfriend’s tantrums anymore.”
I threw up my hands in exasperation. “You’re walking into a death trap, Manson! He wants to hurt you!”
“Kyle has another thing coming,” Lucas said, and his voice sent a chill up my back. “If he thinks he’s going to touch my boy…” He shook his head slowly. “That’s not going to happen anymore.”
“You’re literally banned from school property,” I said. “What do you thinkyou’regoing to do?”
He didn’t answer me, instead giving me a look that could have curdled milk. Manson was haunting and creepy in his quiet manner, but Lucas was monstrous. Everything about him had been built for violence; his lean body honed by years of fighting his father and anyone else who dared cross him.
Manson would wait for you in the dark and you’d never see him coming; while Lucas would come in broad daylight, smash your windows out, and set your house on fire.
“Fine,” I snapped. “Deal with it yourself.”
I turned to go, flicking my blonde hair over my shoulder. But someone’s fingers closed around my upper arm and jerked me back.
