Chapter 4
Ella
Briggs and the other A’s have been oddly quiet the past few days.
Since that day Briggs threatened me behind the bleachers, he’s been avoiding me, not even looking my way when we pass in the hall.
It’s concerning, and a little frightening, because I know he hasn’t just given up.
When Briggs Chadwick III wants something, he gets it.
“He’s staring at you,” Charlotte whispers from across the lunch table. She’s wearing a pink cashmere scarf around her neck, even though it’s going to be eighty degrees today. She’s always cold and always wearing sweaters and scarves.
“Who’s staring?” I ask, hoping it’s James from my AP Lit class.
I used to not even notice him but this past year he had a major growth spurt and now he’s six feet tall with actual muscle lining his arms. He’s not as muscular as Briggs — not even close — but he’s still decent looking, and he’s smart. I like smart.
“A2,” she whispers.
“Which one?” I whisper back. “Last semester A2 or now A2?”
“Now A2. I think.” She sighs. “This is so confusing. Can’t we just name them something else?”
I glance back at their table, then quickly focus back on my lunch, a peanut butter sandwich I brought from home. “It’s the current A2.”
“That’s what I thought.” She picks up her veggie burger and takes a bite, then shoves up her glasses as she looks back at the A’s table.
“Stop looking over there,” I say in a hushed tone. “I told you to ignore them.”
Her eyes dart back to mine. “Has he said anything to you? A2?”
“Not recently.”
“What about A1?”
“No. Nothing.”
I didn’t tell Charlotte about my encounter with Briggs.
I didn’t think she needed to know. Charlotte tends to worry incessantly.
She’s always on edge, chewing on her lip, her nails, her pencil — anything to calm her nerves.
Even loud noises freak her out. Last year she jumped out of her seat when Finn suddenly laughed while passing behind her on his way out of the cafeteria.
He was looking at a video on his phone and didn’t even notice her leap up and almost slam into him as he went by.
So yeah, telling Charlotte about Briggs’ threats would just cause her more anxiety, especially if she thought he might come after her too.
And it’s not like she could do anything.
Even I don’t know what to do and I’ve had all week to think about it.
I’ll deal with it when it happens, although I still have no idea what he’s planning.
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” Charlotte mutters, gnawing on her lip.
“What?” I look around. “What are you—”
“Hey, Trailer Girl.” Parker shoves me in the back and leans down to my ear. “Left you a little present.”
“What do you mean?” I whip around and see him smirking, his white teeth matching his bright white, designer t-shirt.
The shirt is tight, accentuating his muscle-lined chest and arms, and his hair looks like he just woke up, but in a good way.
Another hot asshole. Are there hot guys who aren’t assholes, or is that not a thing?
“See ya, Trailer Girl.” He saunters off, meeting up with Scarlett, who’s giving me a wicked smile that says something’s going on.
Charlotte leans across the table. “What did he say to you?”
“That he left me a present.” I roll my eyes. “Probably a dick pic.” I check my phone. I’ve never given Parker my number, but if Briggs was able to get it, Parker would have it too. “I don’t see anything.”
Charlotte gasps. “What if it’s something else?”
“Like what?” I stuff the rest of my sandwich in the bag, no longer hungry.
Charlotte gets up and comes around the table to me, sitting beside me and whispering, “What if it’s drugs?”
“Parker wouldn’t have drugs at school. He’d be kicked off the team if anyone found it on him.”
“And you’d get suspended.”
Shit . Is that what he’s doing? Is Briggs trying to get me suspended? I’d get in a lot more trouble than that if the school found drugs on me. I could get charged with possession. Forget being valedictorian. This could keep me from getting into college.
“I have to go.” I grab my backpack and race out of the cafeteria and down to the girls’ bathroom. Aubrey’s there, checking her makeup.
She sees me and laughs. “What the hell are you wearing? Is that a t-shirt?”
It’s not a t-shirt — it’s a dress that just looks like a t-shirt.
It’s comfortable, and I like it. I don’t bother trying to wear the right clothes to fit in.
The girls here can afford to wear a different outfit every day, and everything they wear is designer.
There’s no way I could compete with that, so I don’t.
I just wear what I want and don’t care what people think.
“Yeah, it’s a t-shirt,” I lie. “I got it at a thrift store so God only knows what’s living in it. You should probably leave before you catch something.”
She huffs. “You’re so disgusting.”
I go into a stall and shut the door, hearing Aubrey’s sandals click on the floor as she leaves.
I yank open all the zippered pouches on my backpack and search for any powders, pills, or joints.
I’ve been offered drugs before, but I always turned them down.
Charlotte smokes weed now and then, claiming it calms her nerves, but I’ve never tried it and never wanted to.
I want to be in full control of my mind, which is a struggle right now as I frantically search my bag.
Where the hell did he put it? There’s nowhere else it could be but my backpack. But when did he do it? I don’t have class with Parker. But I have several classes with Briggs.
Briggs must’ve done it, then ordered his minion to come tell me.
What the hell is wrong with that guy? Why is he so obsessed with being valedictorian? He’s seriously willing to ruin my life to get on stage and give a stupid speech? The guy has everything, and it’s still not enough.
There’s nothing in my bag. I’ve searched every part of it twice.
Maybe Parker was just trying to scare me, or maybe he was talking about something else.
Maybe he hid his dick pics in my locker as some kind of stupid joke.
It seems more like something Finn would do, but I could see Parker doing it too.
My locker. Shit! Maybe that’s where he put the drugs. But how would he get into my locker?
I fling open the stall door and run out of the bathroom, flying past Scarlett and her friends. I hear Scarlett laughing as I go down the hall. Is she laughing because I’m running or because she’s in on this little prank?
When I get to my locker, I fumble with the lock, my hands too shaky to put in the combination. After three tries, I finally get it open.
And there it is. A bag of white powder.
I was thinking it might be a joint, maybe some prescription stimulants, stuff that could get me in trouble, but not arrested.
This looks like cocaine, which any of the Three A’s could easily afford.
Finn probably has stashes of it in his room.
He’s the only one of the three who doesn’t play sports, so he can do all the drugs he wants.
I grab the bag and shove it into my backpack.
“Ms. Quinn,” a man says from behind me.
I turn around and see Principal Perkins standing there, wearing his usual white shirt, ugly tie, and brown tweed blazer.
“Could I get a look before you close it?” he asks.
My heart’s pounding, and my throat’s so dry I can barely swallow. “You want to look in my locker?”
“Please.” He gives me a tense smile.
“Can I ask why?”
He clears his throat. “We received some information and would like to either confirm or deny it.”
“What information?”
His brows furrow, and he narrows his eyes at me. “Ms. Quinn, is there some reason you don’t want me looking in your locker?”
“No. I just want to know why mine is being searched but no one else’s is.”
“Step aside, please.” He reaches for my locker door.
I move out of the way and watch as he takes out my books, one by one, flipping through them as if he thinks I’ve hidden something in the pages.
“Hey, Ella.”
I immediately recognize the deep voice, dripping with arrogance, and look over at Briggs walking by, giving me a wink and a smile.
I fucking hate him. I can’t believe he’d stoop this low.
Making me an outcast at school wasn’t bad enough?
He has to get me arrested and ruin my life?
Just so he can be valedictorian? If he’s seriously going to take it to this level, I might just have to give him the stupid title.
I want to be valedictorian, but I’m not giving up college and my entire future to do it.
“What’s in here?” Principal Perkins holds up a blue plastic pencil case.
“Just some supplies.”
By supplies, I mean tampons, some pads, and acne cream for those times when a giant zit the size of a crater decides to show up on my face the minute I arrive at school.
Principal Perkins tries to open the box, but the latch is stuck. He yanks on it so hard it pops open, and a tampon flies out, landing in the middle of the hall. Right in front of James.
Just when I thought this day couldn’t get any worse.
James looks over at me, then back at the tampon by his feet. He steps over it and continues down the hall as my face turns what I’m guessing is a deep shade of red.
“Sorry about that,” Principal Perkins says, shutting the box. He puts it back in my locker. “Well, everything appears to be fine.”
“I don’t do that stuff,” I tell him. “I’ve never even touched it.”
“I didn’t think so.” He folds his arms over his chest. “But you never know. Sometimes when people your age are unsure where they fit in, unable to make friends for whatever reason... they turn to substances to make themselves feel better.”
“That’s not what I’m doing. And I do have friends.” I’d like to add that the reason I don’t fit in here is because of Briggs, but I’d probably get detention for daring to say something negative about the school’s Golden Boy.