37. Juliet
37
JULIET
T he Scorpion Kings are obsessed. That fact wouldn’t be such a problem if it weren’t for one teensy, tiny little detail. The object of their obsession is me.
It’s a conundrum, considering that the rest of Silverwood hates me.
The week following my night with Lex, it becomes increasingly clear that they have no intentions of letting me get away. Every morning, I’m driven to school by Nolan and every afternoon, I either hang out in the library doing my homework or, if I have work, either Lex or Gio drives me over to Tangier.
It’s all anyone is talking about—the fallen princess of Silverwood Prep has become the Scorpion Kings’ little whore. I honestly can’t tell if this was their plan all along or if the guys really don’t give a fuck.
“Hey.” A bag drops next to my head where I lie on the edge of the amphitheater’s stage. I look up as Mads sits down next to me and swings her legs over the side. “Is this where you’ve been all week?” she asks casually. “I haven’t seen you around.”
I wave a hand through the air. “Just trying to avoid all the prying eyes,” I tell her.
She snorts but doesn’t respond. Instead, she lifts her bag into her lap and begins rifling through it. Plastic crinkling noises precede her hand appearing in my line of vision, a bright yellow bag dangling from her fingertips. “Here,” she offers. “I figure the Kings haven’t been feeding you much.”
I take the bag but don’t correct her assumption. If anything, I’m actually eating better staying with Nolan than I had when I’d been on my own. Nolan is basically an empty pit that food disappears into. I wonder if he has to eat so much just to keep up with his muscle mass.
Mads and I sit in silence as I crack open the bag and withdraw a sliver of salty goodness, popping the chip into my mouth and chewing. A fog has settled over the parking lot beyond the school building, the rain from the days before settling on the ground and turning everything wet. The amphitheater stage is one of the only dry places to sit out here which is why we’re practically alone.
“So,” Mads begins, “are you going tonight?”
I don’t have to ask what she means—it’s been all over school. The Silverwood Scorpions have a game tonight and they’re playing none other than my ex-alma mater, Silverwood Prep. I pop another chip into my mouth and chew thoughtfully before answering.
“I think they expect me to go,” I hedge. And I don’t know how I’ll be able to get out of it. After all, I don’t have a car anymore, and I’ve been relying on the guys to get me to and from school since I’m no longer at my apartment.
Mads sighs and leans back on the stage, placing both of her hands flat on the concrete and swinging her legs back and forth over the edge. “If you need a seat buddy, I’ll go with you,” she says.
“It’s probably not a good idea for me to go,” I say.
“Why?” Mads looks down at me. “Because your ex will be there?”
I shrug. “It won’t be just him,” I admit, “but yeah, I’d rather not run into anyone from my old school. They never come to this side of town, so it hasn’t been a problem since…” I let my words trail off, but Mads knows what I mean; I haven’t seen anyone from my old life since I left it behind to strike out on my own because of my dad’s arrest.
A beat of silence passes and Mads fixes her attention on the parking lot, her expression disappearing from my view as I look back to the bag of chips in my hand. My stomach rumbles as if demanding more. I acquiesce, popping another into my mouth.
“Well, I have to go.” Mads finally breaks the silence. “I’m a photographer for the newspaper and they didn’t have anyone else available for the game. So, if you need a partner, I’ll be there.”
Finishing off the rest of the chips, I sit up and crack my neck to the side. Peering at her from the corner of my eyes, I contemplate her offer. It’s been a surprise that Roquel hasn’t been dogging my heels all week since Monday when I first arrived at school with the Scorpion Kings. Despite my earlier prediction that I could handle Silverwood Public on my own, I’m starting to wonder if maybe I wasn’t wrong. I’m exhausted being around the guys twenty-four-seven for the last week. Mads is promising me a break from them and a buffer. I’d be crazy not to accept the olive branch.
“Yeah,” I say, crumpling the bag in my hands. “If I can’t get out of going, I’ll hang with you.”
Her head turns my way, a bright smile lifting her lips. “Does this mean I can get your number?” she asks, quirking a brow.
With a groan of annoyance, I pull out the cell phone I’d been forced to carry since moving in with Nolan and hand it over. “Here, put your number in and text yourself,” I tell her. “I’m gonna go throw this away.”
Mads takes the cell as I get up and stride over to a trashcan that sits just outside of the awning. I toss the empty chip bag in before returning to her side. By the time I reach her again, she’s holding up the phone for me and getting to her feet.
“I’ll message you later,” she says as the first bell rings for lunch to end.
I grab my bag, and together the two of us head inside, separating and heading in opposite directions the second we get inside. The main hall of the school is flooded with bodies in an instant and the crush slams into me as I try to make my way to my next period. Gritting my teeth, I ignore the jostling and semi-purposeful shoulder checks. This week has been marginally easier than previous ones, and I’m under no illusions that it has nothing to do with the Scorpion Kings.
When a hard foot slams down on mine, I’ve had enough. I shove the bitch that made the move to the side and step out of the crowd, pushing my back against the wall to let everyone else move past me. I’d rather be late to class than get into another altercation. No matter what Principal Long thinks, I never make it my mission to start fights, but I certainly won’t let myself be the school’s punching bag.
Not thirty seconds since I step out of the line of students rushing for their next class than a bulky arm slings around my shoulders and I’m sent against a chest that smells like cheap cologne. Wrinkling my nose, I push back and look up.
“Hey, Scorpion Slut.” I recognize the guy as one of the football players, but not just that—he’s the very guy that Roquel had fucked at the bonfire party. Hudson Grey. The insult strikes my ears a split second later.
This time, when I push him, it’s with far more energy and anger. I shove against his body enough that his arm slips off me. “Don’t fucking touch me,” I snap. “And don’t call me that.”
Hudson grins, completely unperturbed by my annoyance. “What’s wrong?” he asks as one of his friends—another I recognize from the bonfire, though his name escapes me—comes to stand behind him. “Don’t like the truth being put out there like that?”
“What’s the point in hiding it now?” his friend asks, leaning closer. “Everyone knows you’re the Scorpion Kings’ little plaything now, Donovan.”
I clench my hands into fists at my sides. “You don’t know shit.”
The two exchange a look and then smirk at me. What could they know? Maybe I’d had something with Nolan and then Lex, but I’m anything but a whore. I hadn’t fucked either of them.
Hudson leans closer, his expression rapt with interest. His friend, however, hangs back, looking over his shoulder as if he expects someone to pop out behind them. I frown. A second warning bell rings throughout the hall and I glance over to find that most of the students have disappeared down the side hallways towards their classes.
I shake my head and take a step back from Hudson and his buddy. “The both of you can fuck right off,” I say, turning to go.
“We’d rather fuck you,” Hudson calls after me. “We hear you give it real good and you don’t mind fucking the guys in the gutter now.”
Don’t. React. Every muscle in my body tenses as those two words ring out in my head. Don’t you dare give them the satisfaction of seeing you lose your shit.
It’s there though. The urge to turn and go absolutely apeshit on the two of them. The image of their snide smirks disappearing as my foot connects with their dicks hovers in my mind—a blaring reminder of what I’d rather do. I put one foot in front of the other, though, and leave them behind.
I make it to class just in time, the final bell ringing as I step through the doorway, earning a reproving glare from the teacher. I ignore her and take my seat, spending the rest of the period fighting back the rage that swells in my chest. It’s been far too long since I’ve been to Cory’s gym.
The phone in my pocket buzzes halfway through the class and I slip it out from under the cover of my desk to check the screen. The first text is a simple ‘hi’ from a new number and it takes me a moment to realize that this must be from Mads’ phone. After saving it into my contacts, I move onto the reason for the buzz. A new message bubble pops up on the screen.
GIO: Got practice before the game. Come to field after school.
I scowl at the message and choose not to respond. That is obviously the wrong move because as the bell for next period rings to signal class changes, I step out into the hall to find Gio waiting for me. His back is against the wall of lockers, his head tipped back with a smart-ass grin on his too-handsome face.
“Hey, Prep Girl.” He lifts a hand in my direction.
“Ugh, even if I have to put up with you outside of school, can’t you leave me the hell alone here?” I demand.
Students stream around us, their eyes locked on our exchange. The very fact that we’re being watched like a television show premiere makes the skin on the back of my neck itchy. I turn towards my next class and Gio follows, easily falling into pace beside me.
“No can do,” he says. “You didn’t reply to my text.”
“You didn’t ask a question.”
His eye roll is more felt than seen because I keep my gaze centered forward. “Come on, Prep Girl, you ain’t got work tonight and you won’t have a ride back to Nolan’s since we’ll all be at practice before the game. You might as well come. Where else are you gonna go?”
I hate being reminded of all the choices I don’t have.
When I don’t offer Gio a reply, he groans and swivels in front of me, stopping suddenly and forcing me to do the same or risk slamming into him. My scowl deepens.
“ Move .” I bite the word out, narrowing my eyes.
He holds his hands up in a placating gesture. All it does is make me want to punch him. “Okay fine,” he says. “How about I make you a deal?”
Before I can tell him where exactly to place his deal—so far up his ass that he chokes on it—Gio reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and withdraws a set of keys. He waves them in front of me.
“I’ll give you the keys to your freedom for a few hours,” he begins, dangling the silver keys over my head for a moment before dropping them and swiping them out of the air with his opposite hand before they hit the floor, “and you’ll come to the game tonight.”
I roll my shoulders back. “Whose keys are those?” I demand. They don’t look like the keys to his Firebird and I wouldn’t put it past the Scorpion Kings to lull me into a false sense of security only to set me up to be arrested for driving around in a stolen vehicle.
Gio grins. “Well, since you fucked up Lex’s ride,” he hedges, his lips twitching with amusement, “he had to borrow a ride from the garage.”
“From his job?” I clarify.
Gio nods. “Yup. It’s probably not any sort of ride you’re used to”—there it is, that reminder that I’m not on the same level as they are. That I was once in a league completely separate from them and everyone else in this school and therefore, a reminder that I’m not one of them—"but it’ll get you from point A to point B.”
I cross my arms and force myself to look at his face and not those keys. The idea of being by myself for the first time in a week is so enticing that it’s almost worth the risk of being set up. I could go to Cory’s gym and get some of this anger worked out of my system. I could go to my apartment and pick up some things they hadn’t thought to pack. I could just … keep driving straight out of town. As soon as that last thought occurs to me, though, I correct myself. I won’t drive out of town and certainly not in someone else’s car.
“And the only stipulation for this ‘freedom’”—I lift my hands and curve them into air quotes—"is that I come to your stupid game tonight?”
Gio arches a brow. “You used to be at every game for Silverwood Prep,” he reminds me. My breath catches as he steps closer, not stopping until our chests are brushing. The heat of him burns into my front and I refuse to back off. I won’t give him the satisfaction. “You might not be getting credit for it anymore, but you can still cheer for me if you like, Prep Girl.”
I snatch the keys out of his grasp and start to walk off, not bothering to respond to his unnecessary taunt. I get halfway down the hall when his amused call sounds behind me.
“See you at the game, Juliet!” he yells, causing several more heads to turn our way. “I left you a little present in the front seat.”
Without missing a beat, I lift one hand over my shoulder and offer him my middle finger as I keep walking.