Chapter 3 #4
I feel the anger coil low in my stomach.
“They even hired Bianca’s brother’s friend’s frat boy,” Mindy adds, “a Northeastern IT student, to cut the security feed as hazing. Prove he could do something ‘real.’”
X curses under his breath.
Mindy leans back, warming up now.
“They talked through the plan on the beach,” she says. “Phones on the blanket. They walked the shoreline. Nothing recorded. Nothing typed. Nothing traceable.”
X shakes his head. “These girls cover their tracks better than half the adults in this town.”
Mindy smirks sadly. “We all watch the same FBI shows.”
I lean forward.
“Who?” I ask. “Who was the mastermind?”
She doesn’t hesitate.
“Bianca.”
The room freezes.
“Rosalie didn’t stop it,” she adds. “She’s new. She didn’t know where to stand.”
I grind my teeth.
“They’re pissed, Leo,” Mindy says. “All of them. Senior year? You were supposed to be with one of them. Not Jade.”
My jaw tics.
“Nadia helped because she got cut from the soccer team. The idea started with her, but Bianca had the network to make it real.”
She pauses.
And then her eyes sharpen.
“And don’t underestimate the hired help.”
X raises a brow. “Meaning?”
Mindy licks her lips, voice lowering.
“They might have paid cash,” she says, “but the hired help kept the receipts.”
Tristan sits up straighter.
Mindy nods.
“They kept them as protection. Insurance. Because they know girls like Bianca and Nadia blame downward. Always. If anything ever blew back on them, the hired help planned to show the receipts and say, ‘They told us it was for a school project. Their parents took their credit cards away. They needed supplies.’”
I feel the blood drain from my face.
Mindy keeps going.
“And one of the women who bought the supplies? The one who drove out of state? She’s here illegally. If this lands on her, she’s deported. Nadia threatened her—told her she would get her deported if she didn’t play along.”
Tristan stands abruptly, fists clenched.
“Mindy, give me her info. I’ll take care of her. My dad’s firm can get her a green card fast-tracked. She’s not going down for this.”
Mindy’s breath catches—just once.
Relief fights its way onto her face before she hides it again.
Then she composes herself.
“I still need proof,” she says. “Social proof.”
Without warning, she slides onto X’s lap like she’s been practicing in front of a mirror. Wraps her arms around his neck. Angles her phone.
Xavier looks mildly startled—then he adjusts instantly, hand on her hip, lifting his chin for the perfect shot.
She snaps selfies—cute, flirty, calculated.
Then the door bursts open.
Four partygoers freeze, mouths dropping when they see Mindy sprawled on X’s lap.
Xavier raises a brow, cups her face, and kisses her.
Slow.
Confident.
Believable.
The room gasps.
Phones come out.
Mindy giggles, snapping more shots of her own.
X leans into her ear and murmurs, “I can always say I was shitfaced later.”
She beams.
A star is born.
A new alliance is forged.
And the first crack in the perfect senior-girl empire splits wide open.
We finally have our path.
We can’t leave yet.
If we walk out right after Mindy drops nuclear intel, every girl in this place will smell blood in the water. So we stay. We drink. We smoke. We blend back into the circus.
I slide into a leather chair, refill my glass, and take a long drag from the cigar. Play the part. Slip into the old version of myself like putting on a costume.
Girls notice instantly.
A few freshmen.
Maybe a sophomore.
Not Bianca, Vivian, Nadia or Rosalie—those vultures I avoid on purpose. But the younger ones? They giggle, whisper, drift over like moths to the wrong flame.
I let them.
I have to sell it.
I have to make them believe Jade meant nothing, that I’m “back,” sliding into their world again. It’s disgusting, but it’s strategy.
One girl traces her nails down the back of my neck.
Another leans on my shoulder.
Another curls against my side, head on my arm.
Phones are out.
Snaps firing.
Videos rolling.
Everyone capturing the downfall of the “scholarship girl era.”
I don’t let anyone kiss me.
That’s the line.
But they nuzzle.
Whisper.
Giggle.
Try.
I sit there with a girl draped over each arm, cigar in my mouth, drink in hand, Tristan laughing across from me, X pretending he doesn’t care—
And for a moment, it looks like everything is how it used to be.
But nothing is like it used to be.
Because my mind isn’t here.
My heart isn’t here.
My whole damn soul is somewhere off the map with Jade.
Her voice.
Her laugh.
Her eyes when she trusted me.
The way I shattered that trust.
All of it shreds me from the inside while I sit like a king holding court among idiots.
Hours pass.
Music throbs.
The pop star sings something shallow and expensive.
People dance and gossip and live like last night didn’t break a girl’s world in half.
Finally, I can’t take one more second of pretending.
“I’m out,” I say, standing abruptly.
X raises a brow. “You good?”
“No.”
But that’s all I give them.
X looks at Mindy, still perched on his lap. “I’ll give you a ride home.”
She smiles like she just won an Oscar.
People whisper the second they see them leave together.
How the hell did Mindy land Xavier?
No way.
He must be wasted.
He’ll regret that tomorrow.
Locker-room material for weeks.
Good.
Let them talk.
Let her rise.
We need her protected.
We step out into the cold night.
The party noise fades behind us, replaced by ocean wind and the hum of distant traffic.
Tristan heads off.
X helps Mindy into his car.
They disappear.
I drive home alone.
Inside my room, I grab my phone with trembling hands.
Jade’s number.
The one I’ve memorized like it’s engraved on my bones.
I call.
Straight to voicemail.
My breath catches. “Baby… just call me.”
Silence.
“We can talk. We can fix this. I still love you. I miss us. I miss you so much it’s making me crazy.”
My voice cracks.
“Just… tell me where you are. Please. I’m losing my mind here.”
I hang up before I fall apart.
I walk outside, into the freezing New England night. The stars are sharp above me, scattered across the sky like shattered glass.
She’s out there.
Somewhere.
Hurting.
Alone.
Because of me.
And as I stand in that cold silence, breath fogging in the dark, one thing becomes clear:
I will find her.
No matter where she ran.
No matter who tries to hide her.
No matter what it costs.
This time, I’m not letting her go.