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Michaela’s eyes narrowed. “She just texted me saying she was walking past and saw us in here through the window. She also said she’s really surprised that we’re still friends.”
“Why?”
“Why don’t you tell me?” she snapped, folding her arms.
Suddenly, I was much more sober. “I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, sitting up straight.
Her nostrils flared. “Tayla said you talked a whole load of shit about me to her. She said you called me an attention whore over the Forrester massacre. Apparently, because you were stabbed five times and I was only stabbed twice, that makes me less of a victim than you. You told her that you’re the real victim. And you also said I’m desperate for attention because I sometimes post bikini pics on Insta where you can see my scars.”
My jaw dropped. “Michaela, I would never, ever say that. I don’t know why Tayla would say I did. Maybe it was Pax—”
She lifted a hand to interrupt me. “This wasn’t one of Paxton’s schemes,” she said hotly. “Tayla told me that you said all of this shit directly to her face. And she doesn’t know Paxton, so there’s no way he or his friends could’ve paid her off to lie about this. She would never agree to something like that anyway. She’s a decent person.”
“I didn’t say any of that stuff to her.” I vehemently shook my head. “I swear.”
“Why would she make up something like that, Sienna?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t. All I know is that I didn’t do it.”
“Whatever.” Michaela bristled and stood up. “Fuck this. I’m getting an Uber back to the dorms. You can get your own.”
“Wait, Michaela!”
But she was already gone, storming out of the coffee bar without a single backward glance.
I sighed and slumped down on the table, putting my head in my hands. Paxton had struck again. I had no idea how he’d managed to convince Tayla to lie for him—she really did seem like a sweet, genuine person on the few occasions I’d met her—but he’d pulled it off, and now he’d successfully damaged one of my closest friendships.
Michaela would come around, though. Right now, her emotions were heightened by all of the alcohol coursing through her system. Tomorrow, she might be more inclined to listen to me and believe that this latest drama was yet another round of Paxton’s revenge bullshit.
With a sigh, I left a tip on the table and went outside to book a ride home. I was still so dazed because of the cocktails that it took me five minutes to realize that I couldn’t book anything at all. The credit card attached to my Uber account belonged to my father, and he’d canceled it the other day when he cut me off. On top of that, the app was glitching and refusing to let me add my PayPal account as a payment method, so I couldn’t even use any of the money Tate generously lent me.
“Shit.” I grimaced and glanced down the dark street. The campus was at least a twenty minute walk away, and at this time of night, it probably wasn’t the safest journey. I could get a cab, though, if I could find one. They always accepted cash, and I still had a bit in my purse.
I peered down to the other end of the street and spotted a taxi stand sign. Perfect. I set off at a hurried pace, desperate to nab a cab and get home as quickly as possible.
“Hey.” A dark-haired man smoking a cigarette on the edge of the pavement waved and smiled at me. “You need a ride somewhere?”
“No thanks.” I forced a weak smile. “Just going to get a cab.”
“They hardly ever come down here this time of night. I don’t mind. Where you headed?”
“Thanks for the offer, but it’s fine. Really.” I took a step away, lips still curved into a tight smile. I didn’t want to offend the guy, but at the same time, there was no way in hell I was accepting a ride from a stranger on the street.
The man followed me. “Relax. I’m not going to murder you. I just want to help.”
Wow. What a fantastic way to make a woman trust you! Bring up murder! I thought, inwardly rolling my eyes.
“Like I said, I appreciate the offer, but I’ll get a cab,” I said, tone frostier than before. “Have a good night.”
“You know, you really don’t need to sound so ungrateful,” the man said, reaching for my arm. “I’m just trying to he—”
Before he could finish his sentence, a figure appeared out of the darkness and cut him off, shoving him away from me and up against the brick wall beside us.
“She said no,” a familiar voice growled. “Now fuck off.”
I stared openmouthed, wondering if I was drunkenly hallucinating. Paxton had come to my rescue. Fucking Paxton.
The man squirmed under his grip. “Jesus, man, calm down. I was just trying to be nice.”
