by S. Massery
Riley hooks her finger with mine, and Sav joins, too.
“Okay,” I say, “now tell us?”
She sucks in a deep breath. “When I was a sophomore, I dated a senior.”
Riley and I both stare at her. “Okay.”
“I was fifteen… he was eighteen.” Sav’s gaze bounces between Riley and me, then she blurts out, “We had sex, okay? And even if it was consensual—which it was—”
Riley makes a face. “Did someone threaten to tell?”
Sav bursts into tears. “Amelie told me to stay away from Caleb and his friends, or else she’d tell everyone what I did. She promised she would have Will arrested and labeled as a sexual predator.”
Riley’s eyes widen. “Holy shit. William Alistair? Theo’s older brother?”
Savannah wipes her eyes, trying to control herself.
I grab a tissue and pass it to her, tilting my head. “Do you still like Will?”
“I m-miss him,” she hiccups. “It was a secret. No one knew except for Amelie. But I broke up with him.... But he t-took me to the masquerade ball, and Amelie threatened to expose us again.”
“Do you believe her?”
She swallows, composing herself, and nods. “I believe she’d follow through on it. She’s big on threats… especially when she’s feeling threatened.”
“Wow,” Riley mutters. “You two pranced all over school last year, acting like the best of friends. It was a lie?”
“We were friends… for the most part. Unless I did something Amelie didn’t like.”
This is becoming more than just about Caleb—Savannah’s vendetta is about Amelie. It’s relieving to turn our attention away from the golden boy none of us can stand. Caleb’s brand of bullying is vicious. Amelie is eviler—and of the two of them, she needs to be put in her place more.
I grimace. “Okay, so any takedown can’t directly involve any of us, unless we want to deal with Amelie’s wrath. Which, I personally don’t.”
I hadn’t thought of Amelie very much in the years after I left. Savannah and I were best friends, and Amelie joined in. Once I was gone, she took my place and kept her head down. Savannah renounced me, and Amelie welcomed her back into the inner circle with open arms. Her beauty and lethal charm have kept her on the top of the food chain for too long.
And the same could be said about Caleb.
“Ah,” Sav says, glancing at the clock on the wall. “I’ve got to go. My parents will be expecting me.”
Riley stands. “Me, too.”
“We didn’t really decide anything.” Sav shrugs. “But if the name of the game is sabotage—baby steps, right?”
“Right,” I repeat.
I see them out, then go back to my phone. Unknown hasn’t replied, but I have a new text from Lenora.
Lenora: Robert had to work late, so I’m picking up dinner. Will be home around seven!
Me: Okay, take your time
.
It’s seven thirty. Clearly my words are unnecessary, because they’re not home yet. I clean the kitchen, putting the empty glasses in the dishwasher and running a wet rag across the island. Leaving a space how I found it is one way of staying out of trouble.
Even if Savannah, Riley, and I fail at the revenge we’re plotting, I can’t deny that it’s nice to have another friend.
I grab my backpack and trek up the stairs, slipping into my room and closing the door behind me. I whirl around, half expecting Caleb to be there. My window is cracked, a cold breeze blowing inside.
I cross the room and slam it shut. The snow is gone from the front yard—meaning any evidence of Caleb sneaking in is nonexistent. I let out a sigh and flip on the light. May as well do homework.
Robert gets home a while later and comes upstairs, knocking on my door. “Did your friends leave?”
“Yeah, Sav had to get home for dinner.”
He nods. “Lenora said she was going to pick up dinner, but I think she got sidetracked. There’s an outlet store right next to the pizza place.”
I snort.
“Hungry?”
“We snacked,” I say, shrugging. “I’m good for now… and I need to catch up on this stuff.”
“All right, back to work then.” He taps the door, then closes me back in.
I look around the room, pulling my leg up to my chest. I wrap my arms around it and put my chin on my knee, closing my eyes for a minute. It isn’t that I want to be the queen bee—to take Amelie’s place. I just want her to realize how wrong she’s been.
She needs to fall… and Caleb does, too.
He’s been hoping to break me, and he took his best shot. But it just isn’t happening.
I’m strong.
I close my books, turn off the light, and stretch out flat. It takes a long while for the energy to sap out of my muscles. In that time, Lenora comes home, her voice floating up during her conversation with Robert, and she peeks her head into my room on her way to hers.
I lie perfectly still, not in the mood to chat with her.
I relax at her small exhale, the door closing behind her.
Sleep comes in small pieces, dragging me under and then waking me with a snap.
My mind swings from Josie to Caleb, back and forth like a pendulum. I don’t know why she’s haunting my thoughts tonight, but I can’t get the ghost out of my mind. I let her marinate in my head for a while: a girl I’ve never met, will never meet, and can’t shake.
I wonder if she lived here. In this room.
Something taps my window.
I flinch, scrambling upright. I expect Caleb’s face to be staring back at me. Instead, there’s nothing except moonlight.
The tap comes again, harder, and I creep closer.
Three hours have passed. It’s midnight.
And Caleb stands below my window. His arm winds back, and he tosses something toward me.
A little pebble hits the glass.
I jerk open the window, sticking my head out.
“Come for a midnight stroll with me,” he says.
“Are you crazy?” I whisper-yell. “How?”
“You could sneak out the back door,” he says. “Or climb down…”
I roll my eyes. “No.”
He spreads his arms wide. “Come join me, Margo. Or I’ll join you.”
I swallow. One encounter at night is enough, thank you very much. Especially with Robert and Lenora just down the hall. They can probably hear our conversation.
“Five minutes,” he calls, sticking his hands in his pockets. He wanders away, toward the street. His car is parked in front of a neighbor’s house.
I grimace. This isn’t the first time I’ve snuck out of a house—but it would be the first time I did it to meet a boy.
To do it or not.
Going back to bed—that would be the smart choice. Lock the window and the doors, hunker down. Avoid Caleb.
That would be letting him win, though. Past Margo would’ve let him come to her, just to prove that she didn’t feel the magnetic fucking allure of Caleb Asher.
No. No more intimidation. No more being forced into doing things in fear of fucked up consequences. I’m making the choice to see what he wants.
I’m pulling my boots on, silently cursing my resolve. I try to tell myself that going down to meet Caleb isn’t giving in. His true victory would be if I didn’t.
Him stealing into my room, pressing me into the mattress…
Stop thinking about it, I order myself, grabbing my jacket. I creep down the hall and to the back door. It squeaks the faintest amount, but then I’m through, and it closes silently. Through the mudroom. Outside.
I freeze when the sensor light clicks on, illuminating the backyard. The light catches snow falling.
They could think it’s anything, I reason. A racoon, an owl.
Not their foster daughter.
I edge along the house, keeping to the shadows, until I spot Caleb.
He smirks at me, lifting himself off the hood of his car
.
“What do you want?” I demand.
His smirk widens. “Couldn’t resist, huh?”
“I’d prefer you not be in my room,” I answer.
He doesn’t look any the worse for wear, unfortunately. Full lips and eyes that pierce through me. No one ever said the devil was handsome, but he is. Devastatingly so.
“For what I have planned, your room wouldn’t have sufficed.”
I swallow. It sounds ominous, and I realize how stupid I am to have come out here.
He pulls his hand out of his pocket and tosses something to me. I catch it on reflex, then glance down at the keys in my hand.
“What is this?”
“Car keys,” he says, like it’s obvious.
I mean, it is obvious that they’re his car keys. But why he would give them to me is anyone’s guess. I’m tempted to chuck them into the bushes behind us. That’d serve him right.
“Why?” I ask.
“Just get in the car, Margo.” He turns and sits in... the passenger seat.
I shake my head. He can’t be serious. A heavy feeling comes over my limbs, making it hard to open the driver’s door and lower myself into the car.
“Adjust the seat.”
When I don’t move, he leans over me and does it for me; a little button on the side slides the seat forward and up.
“Keys in the ignition.” He’s still close, his head tilted so he can meet my eyes.
I try not to inhale. The car smells like his cologne—the same scent in my bed. It’s familiar and distant at the same time. It carves a hollow space in my chest where my heart should be.
He sits back, watching me like this is just another fucking game.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because it’s cold out, and if we’re just going to sit here, I’d like to be warm.” He shrugs. “Your choice.”
That didn’t answer anything. I stick the key in and twist.
His hand snakes out, covering mine. “No need to hold it there. Gentle with this baby.”
I release the pressure on the key, and the engine catches, purring. Heat pours from the vents.
“A nighttime driving lesson,” I murmur. “Probably not the greatest place to start.”
He lifts his shoulder. “Even if we don’t go anywhere, I figured you’d be more comfortable in the driver’s seat.”
I keep my eyes on the dash. “Why?”
“Because you’re in control.” His voice is low.
A secret admission.
I tighten my grip. It’s confusing—one minute he’s brash, angry, spiteful. And the next he’s trying to get me to kiss him back and telling me I’m killing him, and giving me control…
Which version of Caleb is the truth?
“I can’t—” I grab the door handle. I need to get out of here and sort through my feelings on my own. Away from his influence.
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” he says. “But only tonight. Only if you stay.”
I twist toward him, shaking my head. “There’s always a catch.”
He smiles. “No catch. Not tonight.”
I drop my hand into my lap, and lean back, getting comfortable. I remind myself that this is my choice—even if it isn’t—and I can go back inside at any moment.
“Why did you mess with my previous foster homes?” I ask.
“I didn’t want you to be happy.”
I roll my head to the side, looking at him. It’s no surprise that he’s already watching me. I don’t think he’s taken his eyes off of me. “Why?”
“Because I haven’t been happy since you told.”
“What did I—”
“Careful, Margo,” he murmurs. “I’ll tell you if you want to know. But there are some things you probably aren’t ready to hear.”
I press my lips together. “Was there a field of tall grass that we used to go play in?”
“Not that I remember. Just the park. Why?”
“I had a dream,” I say. “You and my mom were arguing. No—it wasn’t you. It was your dad. Mom got so mad, she threw a glass.”
“You were hiding outside.”
I blink at him. “That was real?”
“Yes. They argued sometimes. Chefs are known to have hot tempers… and my dad had one, too.”
I gulp.
“What else happened in the dream?” His fingers twitch on his thigh.
“Mom came into my room and shook me.”
He nods. “She held in a lot of anger.”
“Because of something I did?” I don’t want to know. I decide that the instant the words come out of my mouth.
Caleb’s lips part in slow motion. He already gave me the warning that he would answer any question.
I lunge across the seat, slapping my hand over his lips. “I don’t want to know.”
His lips move against my palm, and his eyes crease. A smile. Even if I can’t see it, I know it’s devious.
Slowly, I remove my hand. I brush my thumb along his lower lip, and his smile fades. He doesn’t come toward me like he might’ve before. Something’s changed between us in just a few days.
“Kiss me,” he whispers.
I shake my head. There are more questions, but right now, every beat of my heart is screaming at me to lean forward and touch him more. And every ounce of my brain begs me to run away.
The heart can only win so many times.
I fling the door open and jump out, running back toward the house. It’s easier to sneak in. I kick off my shoes and jacket in the mudroom and grab a glass of water—a plausible excuse if I’ve ever heard of one.
And it’s a good thing, too, because Robert appears at the top of the stairs.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
I nod, plastering on a smile to hide my alarm. “Yeah, I just woke up with a dry throat.” I lift the glass as evidence.
“Okay.” He turns and ambles back to his room.
I follow him.
Back in my room, I scan it and close the door. Would I put it past Caleb to come in? Not in the slightest.
I cross to the window. His car is still there, idling. But as I watch, it pulls out onto the street and speeds away. I exhale and close my curtains, falling back into bed.
Savannah, Riley, and I have a plan—well, an idea of a plan. I just need to focus and not let Caleb suck me back to him.
13
Margo
The rest of the week is non-eventful. There’s not much happening at school. Football has moved almost exclusively to away games, and no other sport has begun. We catch glimpses of the lacrosse starters getting back into shape for the season, running around the field even when it snows.
The school whispers about tryouts. Freshmen stick together in the hallways, groups of boys with gangly arms and legs who want to make a name for themselves here. The competition is tough, Sav tells me. Only a select few get to stay on the team permanently—valuable assets that Coach handpicks. The golden boys, obviously, plus Ian and a few others. The rest of the team spots are free game.
And oh, I never realized how bloodthirsty teenage boys could be.
Caleb comes up to me when I’m at my locker on Friday. “Come to tryouts.”
I snort. “No.”
Once you get in the habit of standing up for yourself, it gets easier and easier to keep standing up for yourself. Because not letting people run over you feels good. Great, even.
“It’s a big thing.” He ducks his head toward me. “Half the school shows up like they’re fucking college scouts. It’s a party.”
“I’ve never heard of that being a thing,” I say.
He shrugs. “Ask anyone. Even your new friend, Sav.”
My gaze cuts to him. “What do you know about that?”
“Just people talking about how nice it is. You know, the two who were torn apart by tragedy finally found their way back to friendship.”
“You’re joking.”
“So, tryouts. They’re today after school.�
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“Good luck,” I say absently, grabbing the last book I need and slamming the door shut.
“Wait—”
I pause and turn back around. “What?”
“Why are you telling me good luck?” He gets closer and squints at me.
“I hope you make the team.” I shift.
“I’m on the team. I’m a captain.”
A nervous thrill runs through me. It’s fun to push his buttons, I’m realizing. I give him my best smile. “If you say so.”
He narrows his eyes, but I hurry away. I make it to class right before the bell rings, slipping into my seat. It’s the one class I have with no one else. The teacher is talking to one of the students at the front of the room, so I open my group chat on my phone.
Me: He wants me to go to tryouts.
Sav: Cheerleading tryouts are at the same time.
I bite my lip.
Me: Sav, you have to be at the cheer one. Riley, come with me.
Riley: Are you doing this just because you’re curious or…
Me: I want to see the implosion.
“Let’s get started,” the teacher calls.
I stuff my phone into my bag, wondering how the hell I’m going to pull this off. There’s a note, along with a picture, tucked alongside my notebooks. And while I cringe to think of his coach looking at it… it’s the best chance to dethrone Caleb.
Riley finds me before lunch and nudges me. “Did you do it?”
“Not yet,” I mutter.
“Give it to me.” She holds out her hand.
I give her the envelope, my stomach twisting.
“Now’s not the time to back down.”
We get to the library, where Sav is waiting at the door, then Riley slips back into the flow of students headed for the cafeteria… which is conveniently next to the gymnasium and sports coaches’ offices.
“You wimp out?” Sav plops down on one of the chairs and takes her lunch out of her purse.
“Riley offered.”
“Nice of her. Probably better if you don’t get seen down there, anyway.”