Chapter 34
C H A P T E R3 4
Clown Shit
Ella
The Present
F orty-eight hours later, we were ready to execute our two-part plan to take down the traitors.
The first person on the list was Callie Mackowski.
She worked part-time as an apprentice in the hair and makeup department at Deos Theatre, an old establishment in the city owned by the Remingtons, that played shows twice a week. As the curtain call for tonight’s Othello came to a conclusion, I clapped alongside the crowd with only one thing on my mind.
Revenge.
I shared a conspiratorial glance with the girls—Darla, Dacia, and Hera—sitting in the same row as me. The crowd tonight was thin, so it wouldn’t be long before they left the auditorium. The security cameras had been disabled—thank you, Josh—and all the guards would ignore what would take place in the next few minutes. Vance ensured of it.
Moments later when the spectators and most of the crew had left, a guard by the backstage signalled us. Four pairs of heels clicked loudly as we descended the stairs and followed his trail.
The hallway was dark and bore the smell of sweat and cheap fragrances. We walked to the dressing room and the guard unlocked it, ushering us inside. The door closed behind our backs with a soft click.
As per Vance’s order, he’d stay planted outside until we finished.
The room had a spacious layout, wide and long in a rectangular stretch. One wall was covered with vanity mirrored desks that were littered with brushes and makeup kits. Another wall housed a multitude of costumes, accessories, wigs, and other props.
Callie was cleaning one of the desks when she heard the sound of our footsteps.
Her head snapped up and she blanched.
“H-Hey.” At least her surprised tone, with a hint of uncertainty, was genuine. Unlike the rest of her. “What are you girls doing here?”
Hera inched her a frown. Darla threw her a glare. Dacia was blank-faced. And I gave Callie a Cheshire cat grin as we circled her like vultures, forcing her to remain rooted where she stood, a rag in one hand and her other gripping a foldable chair’s arm with a knuckle-whitening quality.
I ran the tip of my finger over the edge of a makeup kit innocently, pouting. “Can’t some friends come say hi to another… friend? ” I pushed the kit off the table and it fell to the floor with a loud clatter. “Or are we not friends anymore, Cal?”
She sensed the shift in the air as her gaze bounced between us, understanding dawning upon her.
This wasn’t a friendly visit.
Now we were all on the same page.
“What are you trying to say, Ella?” Her posture inflated with annoyance. “Get on with it.”
“Are you surprised to see me here, Callie?” I leaned my hip against one of the desks and crossed my arms over my chest. “You probably thought I’d still be in jail, huh? Considering you and Gavino called the cops on Initiation Night.”
My sentence hung like a sword over her head.
Callie’s eyes flared, shocked that we knew.
Quickly, she sprang into motion.
I blocked her way. “Sit down. We’re going to have a nice chat.”
Callie tried to push past me before Dacia grabbed the hem of her shirt and yanked her back, growling, “Sit. The. Fuck. Down. You incompetent idiot.”
Despite her struggles, Callie was steered into the chair, fearful and tense, while Hera and Darla duct-taped her hands and feet to it. Realizing that her fight was in vain, she finally whispered, “Are you going to hurt me?”
Ah, so she did know what I was capable of. I tsked at her. “You’re not worth dirtying my custom couture outfit, sweetie.”
I had no desire to spill her blood or even physically hit her. None of us did. What we did want, however, was to teach her a lesson she’d never forget.
We were sweet until you betrayed us. Then God have mercy on you because there was no escaping our wrath.
Now that she was tied to the chair and looked helpless like a wounded animal, I began her retribution. “I’ve got to hand it to you, Callie.” I perused the various makeup on the counter. “You had us all fooled. Who knew underneath your girl-next-door act was a goddamn snake?”
She sucked in a breath and froze.
“You probably noticed your laptop and diary are missing.” I picked up a face-paint kit and a spare brush nonchalantly. “We stole those, by the way, and you’re not getting them back.”
“Fucking cunts, you had no right!” she snapped and lurched in my direction, but the binds jerked her back. “Those are my things! Give them back!”
The girls braced their hands on her body to hold her steady.
“No can do.” I clicked my tongue and gave her my most apologetic expression. “Oh, and we read every single diary entry you’ve ever written. Not to mention, saw your amateur porn. We have all the proof with us. And you know what that means, don’t you?”
Her silence was answer enough.
For a few seconds, Callie met my glare head-on, not backing down. I treated this girl like my family and all this time, she’d been talking shit and planning vile things for us behind our backs. It was a shame it came down to this.
I pushed aside every good memory I had with her. Birthday parties. Sleepovers and movie nights. Coffee and study dates. Seeing the fireworks every year at the Halloween carnival. After school cheer practices, especially the one where we accidentally broke Sister Victoria’s statue in the foyer and burst into giggles before remembering that Principal Hill was going to punish our asses for such a big fuckup.
All those moments filtered through my mind like a film and slowly, one by one, I lit them on fire like I did Kian Wilson’s car, erasing Callie Mackowski’s existence from my mind the same way I did him.
I couldn’t forgive her transgressions—hurting me, my family, my friends. Unacceptable. She’d give me my pound of flesh and then fuck out of our lives.
Picking up the brush, I dipped it in white paint. “Do you mind if I practice my makeup skills while we have this conversation, Cal?” I hit her with a shark grin. “I’m no expert, but I’m sure you’ll look beautiful by the time I’m done.”
The girls sniggered.
Callie stayed painfully silent, holding her breath as the first stroke touched her cheek.
I painted her entire face white first. “You pretended to be our friend for years, while secretly loathing us. I don’t get it. We were only ever kind and sincere to you. Why all of this hate? What have we done to you?”
Once I began painting blue on her eyelids, she understood where this was going and shook in her seat, raging. “You all act like you’re better than everyone else—me! All four of you bitches. Hera, you always thought you were the smartest in the room! Ella, you and Darla paraded around the school like you’re queen bees and everyone should kiss the ground you walk on! And you,” she spat in Dacia’s direction. “You ruined my chances of becoming the captain of the cheerleading team by picking these two nepo sluts as your successor, you fucking dyke— ”
Out of nowhere, Darla grabbed her designer purse and swung it so hard against Callie’s body, the latter almost toppled over. We all shrieked and tried to stop Darla, who absolutely lost her cool.
Chaos ensued in the dressing room as limbs and curses shot everywhere.
“I dare you to insult my sister again!” Darla looped her purse strap around Callie’s throat and tried to choke her. Callie croaked like a frog. “And I’ll make you regret ever talking, you classless, tasteless, insufferable red riding witch!”
“Darla, no!” We couldn’t murder the bitch no matter how tempting. “Stop!”
Dacia managed to drag her sister away from Callie, wrapping an arm around her and whispering words like ‘It’s okay,’ and ‘She’s not worth it.’ Hera let loose a winded breath and pulled out the phone Josh gave us with full access to Callie’s personal social media account.
Which had thousands of followers to witness her downfall.
“Listen up, you two-faced, idiotic, homophobic, lying bitch,” I spoke calmly, but with barely concealed fury. “Your jealousy and insecurities are not our fault. Our only mistake was befriending you and treating you with love and kindness, while you harboured one-sided resentment towards us. Just because someone has something you want doesn’t mean you have the right to insult them. Especially when those people did nothing to warrant your anger or judgemental thoughts.” I continued painting Callie’s face, adding a red nose and an exaggerated red grin. “If being in our presence—our accomplishments—intimidates you and makes you realize your own failures, then that sounds like a you problem. Because the truth is we’ve only ever supported and celebrated you, Callie. It’s not Hera’s fault that she is the smartest in the room. It’s not Dacia’s fault that she picked us as her successors, considering we earned our fucking place through hard work and sheer perseverance. As for Darla and me? We can carry ourselves however we goddamn please. It’s just like Darla said…You’re a classless, tasteless, insufferable bitch with a spectrum of issues…Absolute garbage in our book. And we no longer associate with you.” I tipped her face towards the mirror with a flick of my fingers. “Do you like it? I think I did a good job at capturing your truth.”
Callie looked like a fucking clown.
She fumed, seeing her reflection—seeing her ugliness. “There you go talking like you’re once again better than everyone else, Ella.”
Callie still didn’t get it. “No. I don’t think I’m better than anyone. But you do, based on the utter crap you wrote in your diary about your ‘friends’ and peers.”
Hera launched the phone my way and I caught it. “Since you’re so fond of talking shit about everyone else, we thought it was fitting to share your words with the world. See what they think of that, eh? I reckon they’ll have the same opinion as us.”
Callie barred her teeth, agitated. “What the fuck did you do!”
Wiped out all her previous pictures on her social media account to give us a clean slate…and then posted snapshots of her diary entries.
“Exactly as I said.” I angled the phone’s screen her way. “Showed the whole world your true colours.”
The magnitude of her situation crashed down on her. She panicked, her breaths choppy, as I read out loud the rude and disgusting entries. “Dear Diary, Lori is trailer trash and a goddamn skank. She’s got gold digger written all over her ass. The only thing she’s good at is getting on her knees to suck rich boys’ cocks. Hate whores like her. I can’t wait till someone catches her and she gets expelled. Maybe I’ll be the whistle-blower (pun-intended) and let Principal Hill know.
Callie.
“Dear Diary, Cassidy apparently fainted in the crypt when she was cleaning it during detention. Claims she saw ‘Sister Victoria.’ My foot! She’s got a penchant for fucking the loser nerds without a condom. I’m sure she’s pregnant. That’s why she’s been having all those nausea and fainting spells. Though the Sister Victoria thing was a good cover-up, I’ll give her that.
Callie.
“Dear Diary,
Bobby and I fucked. Anal, to be precise. He said it would be soooo much fun. It wasn’t. He didn’t use enough lube and he creamed in my ass. The worst part? He called me by Ella’s name when he came. Guess he likes her and only got close to me for one reason. Fucking asshole. Fucking bitch. Hate them both.
Callie.
“Dear Diary,
I’m sick and tired of all the girls on the cheerleading team. Four years of this BS. Especially Ella and Darla. Who the fuck do they think they are? Co-captains? More like Co-cunts. I don’t want to take orders from them. I worked hard to be on the team. I deserved to be captain. Dacia, the ex-captain, graduated St. Victoria two years ago and passed the torch to those two whores. Like they earned it. Hah. I can’t stand any of them. They ruined everything for me. So I’m going to ruin everything for them. They act like they’re tighter than a nun’s vow, but I’ll drive a wedge between them. Make them regret ever getting in my way.
Callie.”
By the time I finished reading, my skin crawled from relaying her nasty thoughts. They were all lies about others and situations she warped to better fit the narrative that pleased her sick mind. Safe to say, Callie wasn’t a girls’ girl and had internalized misogyny.
An anal creampie would be the least of her worries by the time we were through with her. “Sounds like you need professional help, Callie. In fact, we’d be more than happy to refer you to a few therapists. What do you say?”
“Fuck. You.” Her posture deflated and her voice was weak. “Fuck all of you.”
With our actions, she was now a social pariah. It was over for her.
The posts had thousands of likes already. People were going off in the comment sections. She’d never recover from this. Her reputation was beyond tarnished. A fitting punishment for someone who wanted to be revered by the masses.
“Smile for the camera, Callie.” I brought the phone in front of her face with an obnoxious grin. “Say ‘cheese’.”
She didn’t say cheese. Just stared at me with a hateful glare.
The thing I didn’t understand was why Callie remained our ‘friend’ if she hated us? Why waste your energy on people you had no care for? Was there a deeper lying issue we weren’t aware of?
I guess some things would remain unanswered. Based on her demeanor, it was clear she wouldn’t say anything more as she marinated in her sheer humiliation.
Posting the image on her social media, I captioned it ‘ I’m a clown ?? ’ and attached the link to the Secrets of St. Victoria account, making her identity known there too. Then I turned the screen her way so she could see her picture one final time. “Beautiful, no?”
The girls gathered close, chuckling at the shot.
“I hate you,” she spat, but there was no more power in her words.
“The feeling is mutual, Callie,” I returned. “This is your karma. You created Secrets of St. Victoria to insult your peers and spread fake rumours, you photoshopped screenshots to ruin my friendship with Darla, and you gave Gavino my phone’s passcode and helped him drug and assault Cade this past summer. You made your bed and now you have to lie in it.” I put the phone in my pocket. “For the last offense alone, I’ll fuck up your entire life. Do you hear me? No one lays a finger on my Cade and gets to walk away without a single consequence.”
Callie paled, stammering out, “D-Drugged and assault? I-I don’t know anything about that.”
“Did you give Gavino my passcode or not?”
“If I did…I don’t remember.” Gavino may or may not have told her the intricate details of his plan but regardless, this idiot was an accomplice to what happened to Cade and Mabel. Unforgivable by all my standards. “I didn’t know that Gavino hurt Cade over the summer. We only started sleeping together a few days ago. All I know is he asked for my help on Initiation Night, saying he wanted to rough up you and Cade a bit.”
This, I believed. Their porn video was dated just this past Thursday. She hadn’t written about it yet in her diary either. Otherwise, we’d have seen Gavino’s name mentioned as the masked guy. So for the most part, she was kept in the dark about his plans. Still guilty, though.
The only laughable aspect of this situation was that these idiots actually thought going to jail would knock Cade and me down a peg.
“Are you trying to tell me that if you knew about all of Gavino’s plans, you wouldn’t have helped him?” I sneered.
“It doesn’t matter.” She glared at all of us. “Because you won’t believe me. Are you fucking happy now that you’ve ruined my whole life?”
“You ruined your own life, Callie.” I shook my head. “We’re just the ones delivering justice.”
I was a Cordova. My papá’s daughter. Cold and ruthless if you crossed me. I would make you sorry until the day you took your last breath.
“Now that everything is said and done, this is the only mercy I afford you.” I grabbed the arms of her chair and lowered myself until we were at eye level. “Once we walk out of here, three guards will come to retrieve you. They’ll take you home so you can pack any necessary belongings. Then they’re going to drive you to the next city. After that, you’re on your own, but you will never, ever set foot in Montardor again. Do you understand me?”
“You can’t do that! This is my home!” she growled. “You have no right, Ella!”
“I’ve got the strongest man in South Side backing me up, and let me tell you…Daddy Remington was furious to hear that you and Gavino tried to hurt his son.” I tutted and she trembled. “Should you even try to contact the authorities, your family, or whatever friends you have left for help, there are people with strict orders to put a bullet through your head.”
Callie started to cry, blue-stained tears cascading down her white cheeks.
Now she understood.
She fucked with us so we fucked with her career, reputation, and happiness.
It was all up in flames.
“You’re done, Callie.” I retrieved her cell phone from the front pocket of her jeans. “Have a nice life, bestie.”
We bid her our farewells and spun around, walking out of the dressing room the same way we came in. Meaning business and total destruction.
Justice in Cade’s court was poetic.
In mine? It was driven by pure fury.
Now that my scale was balanced, the Nemesis in me quieted down, satisfied with the end result of this carnage.
Once we reached the parking lot, we said our goodbyes, promising to see each other soon. For the first time in months, I felt relaxed, the burden on my shoulders lifting now that I had my girls back in my life.
They piled up in Darla’s car while I straddled my Ducati and texted Cade.
It’s done, querido. —Princess
Good girl. —Princepin
Now come meet me. —Princepin
Slipping my helmet on, I gunned it to our next destination.