Chapter Twenty-Seven
MILA
There wasn’t enough coffee in the universe to prepare me for a Monday at Blackwood Academy.
But here I was, making the best of it. Speaking of the best of it, I needed to find Avery.
I passed through the ornate wooden double doors of the entryway into academic hell then made my way through the corridor toward my locker, where I hoped I would find her.
The hallway felt lighter, charged with something I couldn’t claim.
It was the oddest sensation. I studied faces as I went forward, noting that few observed me and instead, everyone was looking at whoever must’ve been behind me.
I fought from turning. It wasn’t Luke or any of those guys.
I would’ve seen an array of expressions from desperation to wanton lust painted across the female population, but that wasn’t what I saw.
When a ripple moved through the crowd, followed by quick glances over shoulders, heads subtly turning, I fell prey to curiosity and followed their gazes until mine found Elise.
She entered the same way she always did—spine rigid, flanked by Nina and Tori, decked head to toe in designer clothes, hair perfectly styled, and makeup on point. But this time, the current around them didn’t pull people in. It pushed them back.
A group near the vending machines scattered without a word. Two girls who normally smiled hopefully at Elise as she passed stared at their phones instead, mouths twitching with what looked suspiciously like smirks. A guy from the soccer team brushed by without so much as a nod.
The orbit had shifted. Elise still walked as if she owned the place. But today, no one bowed. And I was so there for it.
She stopped at the center of a group of football players who normally fell at her feet salivating. Today, they parted like water, silent. One of them glanced at her, then at me, and turned away mid-smirk. Another crossed his arms. No greeting. No sly invitation. Just cold entry, closed off.
The smallest hitch in her step. Barely there. But I saw it.
Other people noticed. Girls who usually hovered near Elise gave each other looks of disbelief—some smirked; some whispered.
The higher echelon who aspired to gain entry into her inner circle, who were just underneath her sphere of power, seemed to shrink a little, unsure.
Even the junior clique, free of her reach before, straightened.
Bold. Because Blackwood’s reigning queen somehow just got shoved off her throne—and everyone, except me, was aware of it.
I caught Avery’s eye near my locker as I joined her for the show that was unfolding before us.
She raised a brow and whispered, “Did she just get iced out?”
Before I could respond, I saw it: Elise’s face tightened, scanning the crowd for weakness.
Her mouth moved, like she was about to say something to Nina, but nothing came out.
She stalked toward the east wing lockers, where Luke, Jax, Chase, and Theo stood as sentries.
They stood with arms crossed or thumbs hooked in pockets, backs to the lockers—owning the hallway as if it had always belonged to them.
She slowed as she approached, smile clipped in place. More teeth than warmth. More defiance than charm. But no one moved to greet her.
Luke didn’t look at her, but he said something, and her head snapped back as if slapped.
His arms were crossed, back resting against the lockers like the conversation he resumed with the guys couldn’t be interrupted.
Jax angled his body, cutting her off with his shoulder.
Chase ran a hand through his hair and turned deliberately toward Theo, laughing, ignoring Elise completely, effectively shielding her from their group.
She tried to step in, to close the distance—but the four of them held formation. No shift. No crack. Like the group was sealed.
Theo’s eyes flicked to Tori, quick and unreadable. She hesitated at Elise’s flank, chin tilted like she wanted to say something—but Theo’s expression didn’t change. Neutral. Cold. Not hostile. Just… done.
Elise stood there, frozen in that space where power used to part the waters—and this time, it didn’t.
No one shifted to make room. No one stepped aside.
Her jaw twitched. Shoulders rose, then locked.
The moment stretched too long. Then she turned, heels clacking against the wood floor, each step a punishment as she stormed away.
I watched the space she left behind. The void. The silence. Then I glanced toward the group that used to flock around her like satellites. “Yeah,” I finally responded to Avery. “She’s being shut out.”
Avery exhaled—slow, satisfied. “About time.”
But she didn’t whisper it. And Elise wasn’t out of range.
The sound of heels stopped. Elise turned on a dime, fury painting her cheeks red.
Her eyes flashed retribution as they settled on Avery, narrowing.
“Jealousy doesn’t suit you.” Her voice dripped venom.
“Then again, neither does cheap lip gloss or pretending you matter.”
Avery blinked. “Better cheap than expired.” Her smile was dagger-sweet.
Elise’s lips twitched. Her icy gaze dropped briefly to Avery’s linked arm with mine then slid back up. “Watch who you stand next to. You’ll get dragged down along with dead weight.” Then she turned again—except her walk was stiffer now, clipped, a clock running out of seconds.
Girls scattered in her path, but this time it wasn’t reverent—it was reactive. As though stepping aside to avoid the fallout.
Around us, the hall hummed. Whispers uncoiled down the row: “Did you see that? Was she just iced out?” One girl nudged her friend, pointing without subtlety at Elise’s retreating form. Another laughed too loudly as she passed.
The tiers were shifting. And the top just got lighter.
I let go of Avery’s arm and got to work opening my locker, the combination muscle memory. The lock clicked, metal clanged. I grabbed what I needed without looking.
Around us, every step and every sound felt charged—low and electric—a storm humming beneath the floor. I’d just closed my locker when a familiar presence shifted in behind Avery’s.
Jax. He leaned casually, back against the metal as if he’d been there the whole time. But his eyes weren’t on me. Or Avery. They were trained on Elise’s retreating form.
Elise glanced over her shoulder—just once—and caught sight of Jax next to Avery.
Her expression hardened, turning even more determined as her focus slid to me.
It was that vindictive look she gave right before she would say something cruel in passing that would fester for days.
Except this time, she didn’t say a word as her eyes flicked back to the hulking guy beside us.
Her red lips compressed into a tight line.
He didn’t speak, didn’t posture, just squared his broad shoulders. Subtle. Deliberate. A line drawn in silence.
She hesitated. Blinked once. Then walked faster.
He pushed off the locker, half-smirking, voice low. “She can’t touch you, Aves. If she tries, I’m your enforcer.”
Avery’s cheeks turned faintly pink. “Thanks, Jax.”
He didn’t answer. But he gave her a slow once-over, as if he was checking that she was okay, then glanced at me. Nodded once before walking off, as though he hadn’t just made a statement loud enough for the hallway to hear—and for her brother to note.
I bit back a smile. Because the fall of a queen didn’t always come with a scream. Sometimes, it came with silence—and a guy choosing who he stood beside. Avery’s grin cracked wide. Relief, satisfaction, and maybe a flicker of something else.
I felt that flutter too. A secret smile tugged at my mouth. Jax had finally made a move. Even if it was small.
Avery elbowed me, whispering, “Did he seriously just do that? With my brother ten feet away?”
I watched Jax pass Chase without a word. “Bold move.”
A few girls drifted by, curiosity outweighing caution. Nods. Half-smiles. Quick, whispered shorthand passed between them—“You saw that. She’s not untouchable anymore.”
The morning passed in a blur, and suddenly it was lunch.
The cafeteria was loud. The rumor mill buzzed.
Elise sat at her usual table, alone this time except for Nina and Tori flanking her, but they didn’t speak.
They didn’t laugh. The glow around them had dulled, except when Elise snapped at anyone nearby who dared to say anything—tight voice, flaring nostrils, commanding the whispers that barely reached past the rim of her table.
People were getting bold—maybe too bold. I didn’t trust that her power was completely gone. Elise was a snake. She didn’t need a crown to strike.
As the clock ticked down, I took note—who cheered too loud at her fall, and who, the ones seasoned in survival, kept their heads down and eyes sharp.
Later, as Avery and I sat with a cluster of second tiers and outliers, Elise passed. Her gaze swept the group, landing on me sharp as a blade. No one flinched, and I didn’t look away. Didn’t blink.
That was enough.
As we left the cafeteria, Avery spun to face me, voice low. “She’ll come back swinging. She always does.”
I nodded. “Let her.”
She hesitated. “Are you… glad? About her getting knocked down?”
I glanced at her. “I don’t care if she’s queen of this place or a cautionary tale. Long as she doesn’t touch us.” I adjusted my backpack strap. “If she does, someone’ll finish what got started today.”
Avery let out a short, delighted exhale and thumped the wall with her fist. I laughed—real, full, the kind that scraped something loose inside me.
Out of instinct, I glanced toward the lockers again. Toward him.
But as we moved toward class, I clocked it—not once had Luke looked at me during lunch. Not even a glance. Not when I walked in. Not when the room shifted around Elise.
We weren’t anything. But the kiss we shared sure as hell said otherwise, even if he wasn’t going to admit it. And yeah—it stung. Just a flicker, enough to feel.
I needed to stop thinking about it. About how his hand gripped my hip. About how I wanted to kiss him again. And it looked as though we weren’t going to. That was fine—sort of—as there were other things that needed to take precedence.
Because I couldn’t shake the feeling that Elise wasn’t finished.
Her warning stuck like a sliver beneath skin.
I reached for calm, for control. For intel.
Had my mom found anything I could use if Elise came again?
And if she had… would I share it with Luke in an attempt to heal the wrong I’d done him when I’d left before or keep it for when I needed it most?