Chapter Nineteen
MILA
The bell rang, signaling the end to second period, echoing down the hall as I ducked into the bathroom between classes.
Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sterile glow against the mirror.
I slipped into a stall then when straight to the sink to wash my hands, avoiding my reflection.
I didn’t want to see if there were half-moons hanging beneath my eyes.
I was tired of everything—my mom, Luke, the bullshit games with him and his crew, and Elise’s posturing.
The bathroom door opened. I didn’t need to look—I felt the malice oozing into the space before I saw them. They came into view in the mirror. I sighed then grabbed a few paper towels.
Elise. Flanked by Nina and Tori. Three shadows under the fluorescent lights.
Elise leaned in, pressing me against the sink’s edge. “You're stepping where you shouldn't.” She pushed her straight black hair over one shoulder, chin tilted, cutting as glass. Her eyes narrowed into menacing slits.
I shut off the tap, wadded the towel up in my hand and taunted, “Oh? Please elaborate.”
Nina crossed her arms, taller than Elise, looming behind her.
Tori hovered by the door, shoulder pressed to the frame, eyes flicking between us.
She didn’t concern me. Not yet. She was more of a sidekick, and her impact with the group lessened if Theo was around.
I was counting on that to influence her to walk a careful line between Elise and the guys.
Elise jabbed a finger under my collarbone, pushing me back. “Charity projects like you don’t get legacy.”
Every nerve fired up. I swatted her hand off me before she could press further. My stance was rigid, ready to pivot if she wanted a fight. I let my lip curl. “Do tell.”
“Stay out of what doesn’t belong to you,” Nina hissed.
“Ahh, I see. You think you’re… special?” I mocked.
“Here’s your permission slip to try to make me stay in my place.
” I wanted them to make a move. I was itching for a physical fight, but these three?
They didn’t have it in them. Or, at least, I didn’t think they did.
“What you’re saying isn’t anything new. You’re tired. Boring. Not worthy of listening to.”
“If you weren’t so dense, I wouldn’t have to repeat myself. So listen up, charity case, and hear my words as law,” Elise sneered. “The guys? They’re ours. And Luke is mine.”
“Excuse me?” Laughter bubbled up, dark and sarcastic. “Does he know this? Good luck with that one—you want a leash? Get a dog.”
Nina smirked. “You don’t know him. Don’t pretend you do.”
Funny about that—I knew him in ways Elise only wished she did. My body heated at even the hint of that thought before I shoved it back in the vault in my mind. Now wasn’t the time.
Tori chewed her lip. I caught her eyes, and she blinked, smoothing her expression out, puffing up her shoulders, masking herself in hive mentality, pretending she agreed.
Elise jutted out her chin. “He doesn’t need someone damaged the way you are. Broken. Used and discarded.” She leaned close. “Guys like Luke? They stick to their own, and that isn’t you.”
I leaned against the sink, slow and steady, arms crossed. “You came at me with words. Opinions. Do you expect me to flinch?” My mouth curved—no humor in it. “I’d have to care about your opinion, or that of strangers for that to work.”
Elise’s nostrils flared. Nina stiffened beside her, that smug expression slipping just a fraction.
I straightened, dropped my arms to my sides, letting my voice cut low and lethal. “As for Luke? Been there, done that. He’s all yours.”
Tori looked away, her posture faltering for half a second before she caught herself and mirrored Nina’s stance.
Elise didn’t flinch, but her silence was louder than anything she could’ve said.
I gave them one last look. “Strange—you keep calling me beneath you, but you sound terrified.”
Elise’s bloodred lips thinned. “We’ll see how long you keep running your mouth when things fall apart.”
I tilted my head. “Can’t wait.”
They turned, Tori yanked the door wide, and the three of them stalked out, heels echoing off the tile. The door slammed behind them, the dull thud vibrating through the space. The silence they left behind didn’t rattle me—it charged me. One thing was for sure; I wasn’t bored.
I waited until their footsteps faded down the hall before glancing at my reflection.
My eyes shone, and color highlighted my cheeks—I looked alive.
A devious grin curved my lips, and I inhaled deeply.
My heart thundered, but my hands were steady.
They wanted fear; I gave them fire. With that last thought, I exited the bathroom into the hallway.
My mouth pressed into a line when I caught sight of Chase’s arm draped over Avery’s shoulders, protective as ever. Fraternal twins, they didn’t look identical, but they were both striking, blond, and blue eyed. His features were more chiseled to her heart-shaped face.
Tightness spread through my shoulder blades to my stomach.
Where he was, the others weren’t far—and I was in no mood for another run-in with Luke.
It was hard enough when I’d walked into calculus and witnessed him run his hand through his hair, in frustration, his shirt raising an inch for a glimpse of rock-hard abs.
I had to check to make sure I wasn’t drooling over the sight.
Instead, I was avoiding him. Nothing good could come of us acting on what he’d confessed at the bonfire.
Avery’s head snapped up when she noticed me, her gaze crawling over my face. She jerked to a stop, forcing her brother to as well. “What happened?”
Chase gave me a once-over, grunted, then left without another word. Avery ignored him, her focus still locked on me.
I shrugged, doing my best to shake off the adrenaline still humming through me. “Bathroom drama.”
Jasmine skidded to a halt beside Avery, tawny eyebrows raised.
“They cornered you, huh?” Avery narrowed her eyes. “What’d Elise say?”
I sighed. “Charity case… stepping on their turf… they want Luke back.”
Jasmine’s lip curled. “Annoying.”
Avery’s eyes softened. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Only I wasn’t. I was spoiling for a fight but also sick of the drama. “Can we just… not do the gossip thing today?”
She pursed her lips. “I get it, but you need to know that Elise is tracking your every move. She overheard something last night.”
Last night—the almost-kiss and the charged tension between Luke and me. I suppressed a shiver at the memory. “I’m not the same girl she thinks she knew,” I said with more heat than I intended.
“She’s dangerous.”
Not really. Not to me. And not compared to what molded me into who I was the past year. “I can handle it.”
Lunch was blessedly uneventful. I even made it through three classes before the rumble began.
Whispers—dozens of them drifting through the space.
It was laughable. No one mentioned the almost-kiss, as I was sure Elise wouldn’t want anyone believing he was interested in me.
Among the top three were Mila was crying after the bonfire, Luke told her to leave town, and she threw herself at him, and he rejected her.
I didn’t give any of the rumors power. None of it bothered me.
I think if they knew he’d almost kissed me, I might have felt something.
Instead, I didn’t stop in the hall on the way out.
Just kept walking. Or I’d planned to walk out before Avery fell into step beside me before I reached the parking lot.
She bumped her shoulder into mine. After glancing around to see who was near us, her smile fell. “I heard something today.”
“Yeah, so did I. My favorite rumor was Luke telling me to leave town.”
“I’m not talking about from Elise and her rumor train. I talked to my brother. He said something about Luke and you looking pretty close, intense and not in a fighting way, while you were talking. You sure you’re good?”
My throat closed. I hesitated. “It didn’t mean anything.” My voice was flat. “Letting him anywhere near me was a mistake.”
She glanced at me, judgment soft. “You sure, Mila?”
I offered her a small, tight smile. “I’m sure,” I told her, before escaping to my car and home.
Of course, Mom wasn’t there. But she wouldn’t be, not when it was still during work hours.
I exhaled a relieved breath the second my door closed.
My backpack fell with a thud at my feet, and I flopped onto my bed where the almost-kiss replayed in my mind, a film stuck on one frame.
I rolled to my side, eyes landing on the nightstand drawer where my sketchbook hid. The urge to pull it out—to catch that frame before it faded, the sharp cut of his jaw, the heat in his eyes—slammed into me hard enough to ache.
But sketching him would make it real. Permanent. Dangerous.
So I stayed frozen, denying myself the only outlet that ever gave me more than clawing through survival.
His lips. Close. His breath on mine. How close he came. We still could. I shook it off, cold water on my skin. I couldn’t let myself sink again. Because if I let myself fall—I might never find the ground.
I closed my eyes, willing the heat behind them to cool. Wanting him was walking barefoot through broken glass—every step closer just promised blood.