by Wendi Wilson
Especially after convincing me to trust him.
That’s what hurt the worst. That all of the boys, Mason and Seth in particular, had earned my trust and my affection—two things I didn’t give lightly.
This plan for vengeance was born of pain and disillusionment. I thought my heart had hardened toward them enough that I would give zero fucks about what long-term effects my revenge might have.
I lifted my head and let the shower pound against my face.
This was all Stella’s fault. She got into my head with her innuendos about something deeper going on. If she hadn’t, I would’ve already created a fake account for Seth, invited the whole school to follow it, and posted the video.
After all, I learned that trick from the Roguettes when they did it to me.
As I lathered shampoo into my long hair, I decided to stand down and hold the video in my back pocket for the moment. I was really going to have to think about this before I made a move I couldn’t take back.
And make sure I was ready for the fallout.
7
“Thank you for coming, Miss Miller.”
Headmaster Swain steepled his fingers in front of him, staring at me with a serious expression. The move was meant to give himself an air of authority and intimidate me. He needn’t have bothered with the theatrics. I didn’t intimidate easily.
I cocked my head, meeting his gaze from beneath an arched brow.
“Why am I here?” I asked.
Swain dropped his eyes, cleared his throat, and straightened in his chair, letting his hands drop to the desk. He shuffled a few papers and mumbled something under his breath before meeting my gaze again.
“I want to discuss your future, Miss Miller.”
“My future?” I chirped, his words taking me by surprise.
I’d expected to get called out for some alleged crime against the students of this school. I hadn’t done anything—not yet, at least—but the headmaster was still angry with me for hijacking his end-of-semester assembly and outing the school’s royalty for the assholes they were. I was sure he’d decided to make up some reason to punish me.
“Yes. I assume you’d like to attend college?”
“College?”
I was aware I sounded like a fucking parrot, repeating his words, but I couldn’t help it. This whole conversation was spiraling to places I hadn’t dreamed it would go.
“Yes, college. Have you decided where you’d like to submit applications?”
I bit my tongue so I wouldn’t repeat his last word…again. College applications were not even a blip on my radar. I never dreamed I’d be able to go, despite having decent grades in high school. I’ve always known we’d never be able to afford it.
My breath stalled in my chest as I realized that wasn’t true anymore. We no longer lived in a trailer, working shit jobs that didn’t even pay the bills.
When Mom married Atticus, she lifted us out of that hellhole of a life. My new stepfather would pay for me to go to college. He was generous to a fault and doted on both of us.
Hell, I could probably pay for it with the allowance he loaded into my shiny new bank account every month. I hadn’t spent much of the twenty-five grand he’d originally deposited, and he told me he had money set up to be automatically added to it each month.
“I’m not sure you’d be a good fit for an ivy-league school,” Headmaster Swain said, pulling me from my thoughts, “but there are plenty of universities to choose from.”
“And why wouldn’t I be a good fit?” I asked.
His words made me feel prickly, even though I agreed with him. Those stuffy, stuck-up schools were not for me.
“I assumed you would find them a bit suffocating and would want to attend somewhere more open and liberal.”
Oh, that was nice save, asshat. His words were pretty and polite, but I could see the truth in his hard eyes.
I wasn’t good enough. I was this close to telling him to go fuck himself. That I’d be applying to every ritzy school on the planet.
But I stopped myself. While his reasoning was offensive, he was right. I wouldn’t be happy at those esteemed establishments. I would prefer a university where the students and staff applauded individuality. A place where I could be myself and not have to worry about rich assholes looking down their noses at me.
“Can I do some research and get back to you?” I asked, striving to keep my tone pleasant.
“Of course,” he replied. “But I must warn you, Miss Miller, admissions officers consider the applicant’s entire student records, not just the grade point average. You already have one negative mark for that stunt you pulled last semester. Another could be detrimental to your aspirations.”
Was that a threat? That sounded like a threat.
“What do you mean, sir?” I asked, my voice tight with tension.
“I can only imagine you are unhappy with the punishment Mr. Bellamy, Miss Rutherford, and their friends received for their actions against you. Am I correct in that assumption?”
I gave him one firm nod, not trusting myself to speak. The bastard knew the punishment didn’t fit the crime. And yet, he let them all skate by with nothing more than a slap on the wrist.
“Should you find yourself desiring to take matters into your own hands, I would caution you against it. The consequences of any such action could have long-term negative effects on your future.”
Definitely a threat.
“I understand, Headmaster Swain. May I go now?”
If I didn’t get out of his office, I was going to blow. He shooed me out with a wave of his hand, and I gritted my teeth against the expletives that threatened to flow out of me. Stiffening my spine, I walked from the room with my head held high.
I made a beeline for the nearest bathroom as angry tears welled in my eyes. I swiped them away with furious movements before leaning over the sink. I turned on the cold water and splashed it against my face, uncaring that my eyeliner was probably streaking and I’d end up looking like a raccoon.
Turning off the flow of water, I braced my hands against the porcelain and stared into the mirror. But all I saw was Swain’s smug face staring back at me.
If I decided to retaliate against the assholes who hurt me, he’d make sure no college ever accepted me as a student. The thought caused a pain in my chest that shouldn’t have been there.
I never even thought about college until a few minutes ago when the headmaster brought it up. I had no life-long dreams of attending my family’s alma mater…we didn’t have one. My mom sure as shit never went to college and I had no idea if my dad did.
But Headmaster Swain played his hand perfectly. He got my hopes up, making me realize that I did want it, then he used it against me to keep me quiet and compliant.
I had a decision to make—did I want a life where I meekly accepted what had been done to me for the chance at a bright and happy future? Or did I want to throw caution to the wind and make those fuckers pay?
Maybe I could have both. I could get my revenge carefully and methodically, making sure there was no evidence to prove I was involved at all. It was a huge risk. If I got sloppy, everything would come tumbling down around me.
Or someone could fabricate proof that it was me, and my chances of getting into college would be jeopardized.
The Rogues and Roguettes were untouchable. Driving that point home was the whole purpose of the meeting with Swain. He didn’t care if I got into college or not. In fact, I’d wager all the money in my bank account he was hoping I’d screw up and he could follow through with his thinly-veiled threats.
I swiped my fingers under each eye, doing my best to remove the smeared makeup. I couldn’t let them see I was upset. That they’d gotten to me.
I would project nothing but calm confidence until I made a decision—ditch all my revenge plans to appease Stella, Headmaster Swain, and my future college admissions officers, or throw caution to the wind and fuck these assholes up?
Satisfied I looked
as good as it was going to get, I pushed open the bathroom door and stepped out into the hall. Josh straightened from where he leaned on the opposite wall, a look of concern in his eyes. I looked left, then right, but save for us, the hall was deserted.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
He jerked a thumb toward the classroom behind him, saying “Chemistry. I saw you run in there and thought you might need me. What happened?”
I darted forward and his arms automatically opened, closing around me as I slammed into his chest. I had no idea until that moment how bad I needed a hug. My eyes pricked with tears, but I blinked them away and pulled out of Josh’s arms.
“Thanks,” I murmured, sniffing.
“Of course. Any time. Do you want to talk about it?”
I did.
Grabbing his hand, I pulled him down the hall and out into the parking lot. He fished his keys from his pocket and unlocked the doors to his bright yellow lambo before opening the passenger door for me. I slid inside and melted into the soft leather seat as he closed my door and jogged around to hop in behind the wheel.
“Talk to me, Chaz,” he said, his voice soft and soothing.
I let it all spill out of me. My conversation with Stella. The threats from Swain. My own doubts and insecurities.
“I’m not sure what the right thing is anymore,” I said, closing my eyes as I pressed my head back against the seat. “Tell me what to do, Josh.”
I hated how weak my voice sounded. I felt pathetic—and I had never been that girl.
Everly Prep had done that to me. The awful people within its walls had made me some diluted version of myself that I didn’t recognize anymore. I felt broken.
“I can’t tell you what to do, honey,” Josh answered softly. “You have to decide whether the prize is worth the cost, though I will say that Swain is a shitty excuse for a human being. He doesn’t want anyone to embarrass him or tarnish his precious school’s reputation.”
I opened my eyes and turned my head to meet his gaze.
“And what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Come on, Josh. I know you’ve told me you’re fine, but I see the way you look at him when you think no one is watching.” I pause to swallow against the knot in my throat. “If I go through with this, if I destroy them and you take my side, that could be the end of any hope you have for reconciling with Theo.”
His eyes dimmed a little, but his mouth tightened into a hard line.
“No, Theo put an end to the possibilities when he helped them hurt you. You’re my person, Chaz Miller, and I love you too much to let anyone, even Theo, get away with causing you pain.”
I nodded, accepting his support for the time being. But if I caught any whiff of regret from him, Theo was coming off the list, no matter what arguments Josh put up against it. Or at the very least, his payback would be tame in comparison to the others.
If I even exacted my revenge on the others. As determined as I was to make them pay, now I wasn’t so sure.
With that video of Seth in my back pocket and the epic guilt trip I laid on Jasper to make him assign Mason as my project partner, I had my foot in the door. I could push it open and barge through, making them all pay, or I could pull back and let it swing closed, ending this war between us. It was my choice, and I just didn’t want to make the wrong one.
8
“Son, how are you feeling?”
My eyes remained locked on my dinner plate as Atticus addressed Seth, who’d stayed home sick from school because of my cruel trick. Half of me wanted to cackle with glee, and the other half felt like the shittiest of shitheads for doing that to him.
I hated that feeling of being ripped in half.
“Better, thanks,” Seth mumbled. “I don’t know what made me so sick. Must’ve been something I ate.”
I didn’t look up, but I could feel his honey gaze burning twin holes through me. He might not have known for sure what made him sick, but he had some solid suspicions—especially considering the one night I’d insisted on serving the family, he got explosive diarrhea.
It didn’t matter, though. He could suspect me all he wanted. He could call me out and hurl accusations in my direction, but without proof, they would be baseless.
All that mattered was the video on my phone, which I’d also saved to the cloud in case Seth swiped the device and wiped it clean. I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to use it, and until I made that decision, I was keeping it safe.
“I’m so glad you’re feeling better, Seth.”
My eyes darted up at the sound of my mom’s voice, and I caught the sympathetic gaze she sent her new stepson. My gaze flicked to Seth, and my heart stalled at the expression on his face as he nodded at her.
Affection, respect, even some puppy-like devotion played across his masculine features. I studied him as he spoke to her, hoping to unmask his duplicity.
“The soup you sent up really helped, Trisha. Thanks again.”
His words, tone, and expression all seemed sincere. I looked back at Mom, who was blushing prettily, basking in his praise.
“That’s my girl,” Atticus said, reaching across the table to take her hand. “Always so sweet and giving.”
Seth’s cheeks bloomed with color as he looked down at his own plate. A flame sparked inside me, making me want to leap to my feet and shout at him for having some kind of crush on my mother—or pretending to in hopes of reciprocation so Atticus would lose faith in her and toss us both out.
But as I watched him, he glanced up and caught my eye. There was no malice in his gaze. No underhanded intentions or even a hint of satisfaction.
That’s when it hit me. Seth never had a mother. His mom died in childbirth, leaving his dad alone with a newborn baby. And while I was sure Atticus, being the kind and gentle soul he was, did just fine raising his son, Seth missed out on a lot.
Gentle kisses and soothing touches only a mother can give when you don’t feel well. Doting attentions, warm embraces, even hot soup made with love.
Seth was softening toward Mom because she filled a void in his life he never knew was there…whether he wanted her to, or not.
My guilt ratcheted up a few notches. Seth’s obvious growing attachment to Mom showed there was a heart buried deep in his chest, and his kindness and gratitude proved he knew how to use it.
Was I truly the heartless one? Could I humiliate him with that video and still call myself a good person?
I still believed he deserved to pay for his part in my own downfall, but was I taking it too far? If Stella was right, there was more to the story than simply a case of bullies being bullies. But without knowing exactly what that was, I couldn’t make an educated decision about my choices and plans for revenge.
I stood, excused myself quietly, and hurried up to my room. I had some thinking to do, and I needed to be alone to do it.
I was sitting with Josh at lunch the next day when my decision was made for me.
The loud screech of a chair scraping across the tile silenced the dining hall, and I looked up to see Charlotte standing toe-to-toe with a girl I’d never noticed before. Her curly dark hair covered most of her face, and her bowed shoulders and downturned head screamed of the desire to vanish right where she stood.
“You’re nothing,” Charlotte growled, loud enough for the entire student body to hear. “A bug ready to be squished beneath my Louboutin heels.”
My face flushed hot as a desire to rush forward and protect this girl flared inside me. Though I thought it impossible, she shrank even further in on herself. Charlotte smirked and continued to berate her for deigning to bump into her as she walked by.
“I’m sorry, Charlotte,” the girl mumbled, her quiet voice barely reaching my ears.
“Yes, you are,” Charlotte sneered. “A sorry excuse for a woman. You don’t belong here, so scurry off like the cockroach you are.”
My eyes darted to the others sitting at Charlotte’s table. Stella looked disgusted, he
r cheeks red as she silently took in the scene. The other girls snickered behind their hands.
Theo looked bored, his usual expression. Cooper was smiling, and though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, that grin fanned the flames if indignation burning inside me. Mason and Seth stared at their phones, ignoring the spectacle completely.
What a bunch of assholes. They thought they ruled Everly Prep and could do whatever they wanted with no consequences. Shit, they even had Headmaster Swain in their pockets. No rules. No repercussion. Nothing to stop them from terrorizing whoever they wanted, whenever they wanted.
But no more.
This shit was about to end. I had the power, the will, and the resources to knock those assholes off their royal thrones, and I was not going to pass it up. My heart turned to stone in my chest as I locked down any feelings of regret and guilt that may have been springing to life there.
No more excuses or recriminations. The rogues of Everly Prep could go straight to hell, and I was going to be the one to send them there.
Game on, fuckers.
I leapt to my feet, my own chair screeching much the way Charlotte’s had done. I felt dozens of eyes on me as I stalked toward them, my face tight with fierce determination. Charlotte spotted me coming, forgetting the girl in front of her in lieu of bigger game—me.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she didn’t wait for me to reach her before spewing her hatred.
“What do you want, Trash-whore?”
I did the one thing that would piss her off the worst…I ignored her completely.
“Hi,” I said to the cowering girl. “I’m Chaz. Do you want to come sit with me?”
The girl nodded without looking up from her shoes. I slid my palm against hers, gripping her fingers tightly as I turned and pulled her away from the table of assholes. Charlotte huffed like she was going to hurl more insults, but Mason’s voice rang out, cutting her off.