16. Juliet
JULIET
W hen I first became the outcast of Silverwood, I thought so long as I kept my chin up and acted like I didn’t give a fuck, it wouldn’t get to me. I was wrong. So fucking wrong.
I gasp as something wet and sticky hits the back of my neck and soaks down into the t-shirt I’m wearing.
Mads’ responding scream of surprise rattles my nerves as she leaps up from where she’d been sitting next to me on the grass in the courtyard of Silverwood Public.
Instead of doing the same, I manage to keep myself in check and slowly get to my feet, turning to face the perpetrator of the childish incident.
The cool, slick slide of whatever material the bitch in front of me had thrown on me continues to make its way down my back and to the top of my jeans.
It’s the other Lindsey—Megan’s bestie and lackey.
She looks back at me with a smirk on her smug face as she drops the carton of what looks like milk from the cafeteria.
“Oops.” She shrugs and continues to look at me. Behind her, Meg cackles with her group of friends, and I have no doubt that this is payback for humiliating her at the party last weekend.
Only Mads seems to have the mind to jump to do something about the milk staining my clothes.
She quickly tries to grab a few napkins from the pile that had been sitting between us as we’d eaten our lunches in what had been polite peace.
It’s rare that I’m without the guys now, but today they’d been called to the coach’s office and had skipped out on lunch.
No doubt, that’s exactly why Meg and Lindsey thought it’d be the perfect time to take a shot at me.
I don’t even acknowledge Mads as she tries to dab and mop up my shoulders and back. My hair sticks to the side of my neck as I stare back at Lindsey. One second spreads into two and then three and finally, she starts to twitch.
The hint of unease is easy to see past her bravado as Lindsey shifts on her sneakered feet and glances back over her shoulder.
Meg and her other friends don’t move forward to back her.
They’d probably talked her into doing this, but I wonder if they will help her when I decide to do something about it.
And I’m making no qualms about it to myself, I will do something about this situation. Maybe not now. Maybe not even tomorrow. But this shit has to stop.
I stand there for several more minutes, letting the weight of my silent rage press down on Lindsey before she sniffs and flicks a lock of her hair off her shoulder.
Turning on her heel, she stomps back to her pack of high school hyenas.
My smile widens when, halfway there, she pauses and glances over her shoulder.
Yup, I’m still watching you, bitch, I mentally tell her. Your time is coming.
“This is so unnecessary,” Mads mutters angrily. “We’re not children anymore. I can’t believe they think this does anything but make them look stupid.”
Turning quickly, I snag the napkins in Mads’ hands, causing her to yelp in surprise. “It’s fine,” I tell her. “I’m not worried about Megan and her friends.”
Mads looks at me and then twists her head, directing the brunt of her glare at the group now cautiously observing us as if they’re concerned that I’ll go off at any second.
They’re right to be worried. I’ve proven by now that I’m not one to take any of this shit lying down.
My quietness and lack of response should set them on edge because when I finally do get my revenge, it’ll be so dark they’ll never even consider fucking with me again.
“Are you okay?” Mads looks back to me, her brow puckering.
“I need a change of clothes,” I admit, “but otherwise I’m fine.”
“I think I have a gym shirt in my locker,” she says. “You can change in the bathroom before next period.”
I nod my thanks and together, the two of us head inside. As we bypass Meg and company, I offer the group of them a small smile. Meg’s facial expression goes stiff and she lifts her chin up at me. Cold anger pours into my veins.
Soon, I promise silently. So very fucking soon.
Once I’m changed and somewhat less sticky, thanks to a dip of my hair in the girls’ bathroom sinks, I don’t head to next period. I make an excuse to Mads and head for my locker to grab my things and exit the building.
Lex’s SUV is unlocked, and I hop into the passenger seat and pull out a notebook.
I’ve had enough of dealing with the general mass of Silverwood people to last me a lifetime.
So instead of attending class as I should be, I spend the rest of the school day in Lex’s vehicle catching up on homework and reading.
When the final bell rings out over the campus and the doors to the school building swing open as students rush to their cars, my phone buzzes in my back pocket.
Pulling it out, I realize it’s a call not a text message, and I hit answer, putting the device on speaker and setting it in the console as I finish the last question on the worksheet I had for my statistics class.
“Where are you?” Nolan’s deep baritone fills the interior of the SUV.
“Waiting for y’all to be done,” I reply, scratching out my final answer on the sheet before dropping my pencil into my backpack. “Where are you?”
Nolan’s sigh comes over the line clear as day and I know what he’s about to say before he says it. “We have more practice this afternoon.”
“Are you guys still being punished?” Despite what the Scorpion Kings want me to think, I’m not so naive as to realize that it isn’t normal for them to have so much practice for football.
Their regular early morning sessions and afternoon sessions don’t always have the entire team in attendance.
Half of the time, it’s just them and their coach.
Nolan’s “Don’t worry about it” is an answer in itself.
I blow out a breath. There’s no point in pushing if that’s all he’ll tell me. “What am I supposed to do in the meantime?” I ask. “I don’t want to hang out on the bleachers.”
“Lex has a spare key under the floorboard of the driver’s side,” Nolan tells me. “Why don’t you go hang at Cory’s? G can give us a ride over after we’re done here.”
Excitement pulses through me. “Sounds like a plan,” I agree readily, and after a short back and forth as we figure out timing, he hangs up.
The second the line to leave the student parking lot clears up, I’m out of the car and rounding to the driver’s side.
I find the spare key exactly where Nolan had told me it’d be.
With the key in hand, I clamber into the driver’s seat and adjust it to fit my height and not Lex’s ungodly size.
I’m halfway to Cory’s Gym when another thought occurs to me and instead of turning in the direction of the usual run-down sector that I used to live in, I hang a left onto the highway that’ll take me out to Tangier.
Half an hour later and a noticeable difference in the gas gauge—why Lex’s SUV has to be such a gas guzzler, I will never understand—I pull into the familiar parking lot of The Dionysus Lounge.
For a moment, I just sit there, watching the back door open and close as several hosts come in.
It’s barely past four p.m., but it’s the perfect time to set up for when they open tonight.
The bartenders are probably counting inventory and the hosts are likely putting their makeup on in the locker rooms.
My hands shake as I turn the car off and sit in silence for a bit longer.
Eventually, a dark red Ford truck rattles into the parking lot with a guy in the driver’s seat.
My eyes narrow at the rusted-out underside of the vehicle that I don’t recognize, not because it’s a piece of shit, but because of the passenger.
Mads doesn’t seem to notice me as she says something I can’t hear or read from her lips to the driver. The guy leans over, but she deftly sways away from him and her lips twist into a dark frown as she says something else. If her expression and stiff shoulders are anything to go by, she’s agitated.
A moment later and she shakes her head, popping the door open and hopping out with a bag over her shoulder.
Before she even gets a chance to swing the door closed again, the driver guns it, causing a plume of gray smoke to cough out of his exhaust pipe as he wheels around the parking lot and leaves the same way he came in.
She enters the building while I remain where I am, curious and confused.
It’s not the first time I’ve seen Mads with guys I don’t recognize.
Then again, I’m sure there are things about her life she’d rather not share with anyone, just like there are things about mine that I also like to keep private.
When the sun starts to dip below the horizon, I realize I’m sitting out here contemplating what I’m going to say to Ma-Ri instead of actually doing it. I’m running out of time if I’m going to meet the guys outside of Cory’s Gym at the time we agreed upon.
I remove the key from the ignition and pocket it as I jog towards the back door of the club building.
The inside is as dark as I remember and the sound of instrumental music playing at the front of the house echoes back to me as the squeaking metal door swings shut behind me.
The low thrum of conversation and music mask my footsteps—not that I’m trying to hide my entry or anything, but it doesn’t hurt—as I head towards the familiar door that leads into Ma-Ri’s office.
A quick knock and a push has the old woman’s head popping up from the papers collected on the surface of her desk as I step inside and shut the door at my back. Her almond-shaped eyes widen.
“Juliet?” She gets to her feet, but I hold my hand out, stopping her.
“Hey, no, don’t—uh—don’t get up. I’m not planning on staying long,” I say.