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He’s a good teacher, too. He writes out each stage of the problem and uses real-world examples so I can grasp what exactly it is I’m trying to work out. He’s strict – he doesn’t let me mouth off. Of course, that only makes me do it more. He gets so flustered around me. I don’t fit neatly into the box he assigned for me in his head, and he doesn’t know yet if he still hates me or… I remember the hardness of him pressing against me at the party. He was flustered then, that’s for sure.
I like having this effect on him.
At the end of our hour, Noah hands a page of problems back to me, with only two wrong answers. “I think you might actually have a shot of passing the next quiz.”
I dare a grin. “They’ll think I cheated.”
“Probably. A word of advice – if you’re going to cheat, don’t copy Gabriel’s work. He’s almost as behind as you are.” Noah stands up and shrugs his bag over his shoulder. He doesn’t look me in the eye as he turns away. “See you tomorrow, Mac.”
Antony gets back to me with the news that he ‘sent a few guys around’ to sort out the Brutus situation. He doesn’t elaborate on the details, but I don’t need to ask. “The weird thing is, when we got past the guards, he wasn’t inside,” Antony says. “His headquarters have been completely cleared out. We’ve put out the word, and he’s nowhere to be seen in Emerald Beach. He must’ve been tipped off I was coming for him, so he skipped town to save his pretty ass. He’s probably in Mexico by now. You’ve got nothing to worry about from him.”
Even so, Antony keeps the guard on my house. I feel a weight lifted from my shoulders – for now, Queen Boudica and I are safe. I’d be happier if I had Brutus’ head on a plate next to Alec’s, but that might come in good time.
After Antony’s good news, the rest of the week flies by – I eat lunch with the guys at the royals table while Alec stares dagger eyes into my back from a lonely corner of the dining hall. I walk the halls with Gabriel or Eli’s arm around my shoulders, basking in their warmth and popularity. Noah and I throw barbs at each other while he tutors me. We toss around ideas for getting our vengeance on Alec and Cleo. I send videos of Queen Boudica chasing a fuzzy mouse to Eli and receive strings of hilarious Roman History memes from George.
I dare to believe that maybe the rest of the year could go like this – a normal teenage existence, with normal friends and normal hormones and normal revenge plots and not the gaping hole of loneliness that’s been threatening to devour me.
I should have known better.
The next Thursday night, I don’t go to tutoring with Noah. Instead, I pull on the world’s tiniest red skirt and head to my first cheerleading practice.
That’s right, I, Mackenzie Malloy – the Ice Queen witch bitch ghost slut extraordinaire – am officially a base for the Stonehurst Prep cheer squad. When Mrs. Anderson heard from Ms. Drysdale about the ‘family bereavement’ that prevented me from completing my previous audition, she allowed me to do a make-up. Her verdict: my ‘pep’ could definitely use some work (it’s hard to look smiley with Cleo staring daggers at you from the bleachers) but my tumbling skills and strength would be an asset for the team.
After class on Thursday, I head outside for some fresh air before practice starts. Gabriel’s smoking weed under the bleachers. I jump down beside him and whip the joint from his hands, leaning my head against his shoulder as my head fills with lovely THC clouds.
Eli and Noah are on the field, running drills with the rest of the track team. Eli’s clearly the star of the team – he’s out in front during all the sprints. When they practice their starts, he explodes from the ground like he’s about to fly off to the moon. Something happens to him when he runs – in his face, it’s like he’s finally going fast enough that he can run away from his life.
But Noah… he’s a mess. He’s strong, and fit, and his ass looks damn fine in those tight shorts, but he’s no track star. He lags behind the others in the sprints, and during the drills you can tell he doesn’t know what to do with his body. I read the frustration on his face and the tension in his shoulders as he comes in last again.
Gabe notices me watching Noah. “He knows he’s bollocks. But he won’t quit. Noah thinks everything in life is like passing exams. You just have to learn the answers and you’re set.”
“But why is he on the track team if he sucks at it?” Noah is such a perfectionist over-achiever, it doesn’t make sense.
Gabriel gives me that look. “Because of his brother. Are we still on for tonight?”
That’s right. I read in the news articles that Noah’s brother Felix had been a track star headed to the Olympic team. I want to ask Gabriel more about it, but it will only bring up questions in his mind about why I don’t remember the court case and Malloy International’s role in Felix’s death, and I don’t want to poke that bear if I don’t have to. So I nod.
“Dinner and cherry cheesecake at your place, followed by a hot tub under the stars? How can I forget?” I swallow hard. My stomach flips with nerves at the thought of the ‘not-date’ Gabriel has planned for us tonight. Not least of all because it’ll just be the two of us. No Eli. No Noah. And that’s thrilling and terrifying and a little… disappointing. And I don’t understand why.
Since hanging out with the guys, I’ve decided I’m done with virginity. It’s impossible to be around so much male hotness and not think about sex 24/7. A vibrator under the covers while Queen Boudica purrs in my ear just isn’t cutting it any longer. Antony’s right – if I’m going for the normal high school experience, I need to have normal, high school sex. And who better to do it with then flirty, beautiful, no-strings-attached Gabriel?
Who better to take me to the stars than the one who sings them?
It doesn’t matter that Eli’s ocean-eyes haunt my dreams, or I can’t stop thinking of how powerful I felt with Noah’s hard cock rubbing against me at the party. It’s not as if I can have all three of them. I mean, there’s normal high school sex and then there’s… reverse harem. And that may be fun in books, but it doesn’t happen in real life.
Does it?
I’m happily buzzed from Gabe’s weed and my head’s filled with hot tub thoughts when I head into the gym for cheerleading practice. I’m the last one to arrive – the other girls are scattered across the floor, gossiping as they do their stretches and limber up. All conversation dies when I enter – a sure sign I’m probably the main topic.
Cleo flashes me her too-white smile, and I know I’m in trouble.
“Melrose, hi,” she purrs, bouncing over to me. Her sleek black hair is pulled back into a severe ponytail, giving her this panther-like expression. Her snakes coil on either side of me, girls surrounding me in a tight circle of ponytails and bitch-face. “We’re so happy to have you on the team.”
Daphne’s leg brushes my gym bag. They’re standing so close their designer perfumes all mingle together into the scent of bullshit.
“What’s going on here? Girls, on the mat for warm-ups.”
Mrs. Anderson blows her whistle, and the snakes move away. Cleo sets me with one final chilling smile that sets my teeth on edge. I toss my bag down near Cleo’s and line up for drills. As I circle the gym at a jog, I notice Principal Foster and two police officers standing at the entrance to the gym, deep in conversation with Mrs. Anderson.
