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A muscle in Devlin’s jaw jumps. Where the hell did this severe attitude come from? When I see him around Lucas, he’s usually carefree and relaxed. There’s hardly anything that gets to him.
“It’s fine, Gemma, just go ahead,” Blair mumbles. She cuts a hateful look to Devlin as he fills in the suspension paperwork. Sighing, she nudges me. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Okay…” Something tells me not to leave, so I retreat with slow steps. “Keep an eye out for my bag, will you? It’s missing.”
The emphasis I put on the word has Blair’s brows shooting up. I shrug helplessly. She nods and waves me away.
As I exit the office, I hear Devlin’s words to Blair.
“The next time you cross us, I’ll make you regret being born, Davis. Don’t try your petty pickpocket bullshit again, or I’ll have you kicked out of school.”
I pause outside the door and glance back. Blair’s teeth are bared and Devlin looks ready to shoot fire from his eyes. The tension between them crackles in the air, reaching all the way into the hallway.
Part of me wants to hang around to give my friend back up, but a teacher strolling through the hall sees me standing there.
“What are you doing out of class? Move along.”
I have no choice but to make my way to the auditorium. The sick roil still makes my stomach feel like lead as I go there without my missing bag.
I need to find it.
* * *
I check everywhere.
As the minutes tick by throughout the day I grow more frazzled. Classes drag as my knees bounce. Cruel laughter and whispers follow me everywhere.
Between every class I stalk through the halls of the huge campus and confront anyone who looks at my twice. No one has answers.
All I earn for my trouble is more frustration and rude snickers.
By last period, I break down and check Instagram. If the whole school knows, then that means there’s a clue and I need to find my bag.
Sure enough, I have a bunch of tags when I open up the app in the bathroom. My stomach tightens and drops like cement through water as I tap on a few of the notifications flooding my feed.
@brightg
em give me $50 & a blowjob for ur bag.
Saw this gutter troll digging through the trash. Hear she’s buds with Raggedy Anne #yikes #silverlakehs #theyremultiplying. In this photo: @brightgem.
@brightgem found what you’re missing right here baby. #8inches #nolie [wink emoji] [eggplant emoji].
This last one is a photo of a guy’s abs and the trail of hair leading into his low waistband tugged down to tease his junk.
A disgusted scoff drops from my lips. In a last ditch effort, I clear my notifications and navigate to Lucas’ account.
(What? I’m not a stalker like him. I’ve looked once or twice. Just to see who I was dealing with. You can tell a lot about a person by their social media habits.)
There’s a new photo. A selfie. He’s smirking at the viewer with nice backlighting leaking across the photo. Morning light, I note with narrowed eyes. The caption reads:
@GoldSaint: All things lost will be found again. To catch a kitten, set a tasty lure #herekittykitty.
Bastard. He’s a goddamn monster. This is all a mean joke to him, but that camera is more important to me than anything.
With a bitten off sound, I swipe out of the app. I’ve seen enough. I wait in the bathroom until the final bell rings, then shove the door open to get the hell out of this cesspool of heartless greed.
“There goes the crazy angry chick.”
