3. Margo
Chapter 3
Margo
F riday’s schedule is slightly different. It mirrors my Monday schedule, which I haven’t yet experienced, in that it swaps out a science lab third period for a gym class. One of the coaches gets me all set up with a locker in the girls’ locker room, and I change along with all the other girls.
I managed a rather quiet Thursday without incident. Caleb missed the first period; Ian called me a few choice names but otherwise didn’t bother me—what’s the point if there’s no ringleader to impress? I also avoided the lunch hall with Riley, which I plan on repeating every day for the rest of the year.
Even Friday’s first period is tame. But my luck runs out faster than I hoped regarding Caleb, however, when I spot him marching across the grass in my direction. It’s not fair that he looks perfect in a form-fitting t-shirt and shorts. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, with a tapered waist and thigh muscles that could crush someone. And his ass…
My body shape is more akin to a bag of marshmallows in comparison.
I’m with the other girls in my gym class, waiting for the coach to tell us what we’re doing. Something to do with running, I think.
Unfortunately.
He stops in front of me, making a show of looking me up and down. Again . His upper lip curls, and he points at my shoes. “Did they give you these as compensation?”
Huh?
He shakes his head and shoulders past me. I ignore that he flirts with other girls. I ignore that their glares burn the back of my neck and drag a blush to my cheeks.
We run as predicted. It rained overnight, and my new sneakers, courtesy of my foster parents, are uncomfortably wet by the time we make it back to school. Dismissed for the rest of the period, I head straight to my locker to change into my regular shoes and socks.
Except they’re gone.
I look everywhere, my stomach knotting. I can’t have lost them—my locker was locked . That’s the whole freaking point.
But the longer I search, the more girls come into the room, and quiet laughter pours out of their hushed conversation. They’re watching me search, and they know it’s pointless.
Someone took them.
I’d bet anything Caleb is behind it.
When I fill in Riley on what happened, she gets angry on my behalf.
“We’ll go shopping tomorrow,” she promises. “Fuck him. Honestly.”
I agree.
Robert doesn’t seem to notice that I’m wearing the wrong shoes on the way home.
Does he hear the rumors about me?
He works in the art department. He teaches four different classes of various difficulty on both painting and film, and he likes to discuss what his students are doing over dinner. Sometimes he even pulls out his phone and flips through pictures of their art.
He’s proud. Passionate.
Lenora is the same with her job. She has an office in Rose Hill but occasionally makes the trek into New York City. From what I gather, she manages financial accounts.
I’ve only spent two nights with them, but I can see how good they are together. They genuinely enjoy hearing about each other’s work.
Several times, I’ve had to take a step back and evaluate how far I’ve come. I’m back in my hometown after seven years. I’m going to a fancy school that has classes like Renaissance Art History and Film in a Digital Age.
Rose Hill is unlike any other place I’ve lived.
It’s small and tight knit, but only an hour away from New York City.
Three streets over from the Bryans’ home, I used to live in the guest house of a mansion with my parents. My dad went to work like a normal person, and Mom was the family’s personal chef. I hung out with the other kids, got into the prep school on scholarship, had a solid group of friends.
And then things disintegrated.
What started as a dream childhood turned into a nightmare. One I couldn’t wake up from.
Robert doesn’t mention the bullying, but he does rest his chin on his fist and says, “Margo…”
I pause with my fork hovering halfway between my plate and mouth.
“Hockey season is starting soon, and I just wanted to let you know that I volunteer to oversee the spirit committee.” He smiles, proving he knows nothing of what’s going on between Caleb and me. Caleb, the hockey captain. “It just requires some afternoon meetings, that’s all.”
I lower my fork. “Oh. Right, okay. I didn’t know Emery-Rose had a spirit committee.”
“They run fundraising events, organize the buses for our sports teams’ away games, tackle homecoming and prom, things like that. Every student has a portion of their tuition funnel into their budget. But ever since the Eagles won the championship two years ago, hockey has taken priority. If you’re interested in joining, I can pass your name along to the committee head.”
I choke. “Oh, um. Thank you. I’m okay. I’ve got enough on my plate…”
Lenora reaches over and pats my hand. “What happened at school today?”
My lungs stop.
“Anything fun or interesting?” she prompts.
“Um…” I lift one shoulder. “We ran in gym today.”
“Oh!” She grins. “Do you like running? I usually manage a few miles on the treadmill, but I’ve always wanted to be the sort who runs outside. Just not in the winter.”
I feign a smile but end up going with the truth. Otherwise, I’d end up being roped into morning runs with her, and that sounds like actual hell. “Running is my least favorite.”
Especially a few miles.
Robert bursts into laughter and quickly covers his mouth. “Sorry,” he says through his fingers. “Sorry, Len, but the hope in your eyes…”
She waves him off. “No, stop. It’s okay, Margo.”
My face heats. “I?—”
“It’s okay,” she repeats. “I’ll stick to my treadmill, and hopefully your coach will move on to something more interesting soon.”
“I did want to ask… do we have plans this weekend?”
Robert and Lenora exchange a glance.
Lenora is the one who says, “No, but we were going to run by you the idea of going to see a movie.”
“That sounds great. I was asking because I made a friend, and she wanted to see if I could go to the mall with her.”
“Look at that!” Lenora exclaims. “You made a friend? That’s so exciting, Margo!”
Oh boy. My face feels like the sun.
“Who is it?” Robert asks.
“Riley Appleton.”
Lenora turns to him, and he nods.
“Lovely girl,” he tells his wife. “She’s a junior, I believe?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Yes, of course.”
So… they’re not unreasonable. I go back to my meal with a modicum of confidence under my belt. We’re going to a movie, Riley and I will wander around the Rose Hill mall, and I’m going to catch up on homework. I can’t fail out of Emery-Rose Elite before I’ve even begun.
Can’t and won’t.
The sunrise finds me. I’ve been awake for too long. The shadows have crept across the ceiling until pale sunlight comes in through my window.
I had a terrible nightmare about a darkness that followed me around school.
I roll over and grab my phone, my fingers navigating to the messages from Unknown.
No one has stood out as a likely culprit—no one except Caleb Asher himself. Or one of his friends operating on his orders.
There have been no new messages in the last few days, no threats to worry over. Just the few simple texts warning that I’ll regret coming back.
And so far, they’re right.
Heaving a sigh, I climb out of bed and collect clean clothes. A shower to wash away the lingering sense of the nightmare and then something to scavenge for breakfast. Once I’m dressed and my makeup is in place, I go downstairs.
Riley is already there.
Sitting at the kitchen table with Robert and Lenora.
I stop short, cocking my head, but she just grins at me.
“Took you long enough,” she teases. “I hope you’re ready to shop until you drop.”
I scoff. There’s a plate of toast, another of eggs and bacon. I didn’t take that long to get ready, but I already feel behind. Coffee, breakfast.
Riley keeps up an easy, steady chatter with my foster parents, and soon enough, we’re ready to go.
Robert follows me to the door and calls out softly, “Margo. Would you mind picking up a few paints? And a roll of film? There’s a store at the mall, and I’ve been meaning to go… you’d be saving me a trip.”
“Oh, yeah. No problem.”
He hands me a piece of paper with the details.
I tuck it into my pocket. It’s the least I can do for him.
I follow Riley outside. We pile into her car, and I look around the interior. Leather, with fancy gadgets. A button for heating the seats or cooling them.
“Damn, Riley,” I murmur. “You’ve been hiding your wealth on me.”
She snorts. “No more than you’ve been hiding the Bryans’ wealth.”
“What’s theirs is not mine.” I turn up the radio. “It’s always been that way.”
She’s quiet for a moment, contemplating that. It’s just a fact for me, but I understand how it would take her aback. My parents shared their wealth—the little of it we had. We weren’t rich by any means, and I only lived in this neighborhood because of my mom’s job.
Going into the foster system, I was made very aware that I was not part of the families I was staying with.
Yes, some came with good intentions. But the business of fostering a kid is that it’s temporary. There’s an expectation that it will end.
Once I realized that, I held on to it with everything I had. It kept me from getting attached… until the last home. Until Claire and Hanna felt more like home than anything or anyone else had since I was put into the system in the first place.
Then they got ripped away from me, which was the biggest ‘fuck you’ from life. And I never saw it coming.
Riley clears her throat. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that.”
I wave my hand. “Don’t worry about it.”
She exhales, glancing at me and smiling tentatively. “The mall is the place to be. Forgive me if you already know that. I know you used to live here, but?—”
“It was a long time ago,” I finish.
Some streets seem familiar, like I used to drive them in a dream. Others… Well, things change, I guess. I’m getting a weird sense of déjà vu.
“The mall is the place to be,” I repeat. “Who should we expect to see?”
“The most elite of Emery-Rose Elite.” She makes a face. “And us.”
Great.
She turns onto the mall driveway. We zip up a steep hill, and suddenly the mall looms in front of us. We circle around it, giving me perspective of the size. I don’t remember it from my childhood. Can’t remember going as a kid.
Finally, she parks in a space near a side entrance.
“I need a birthday present for my mom,” she says. “Something classy. Dad gave me his credit card.”
I shake my head. Imagine a world where someone handed me a credit card and said, Pick something nice out for your mother . Maybe in another life.
Inside, we’re greeted with pop music playing through overhead speakers and a lot more people than I was expecting. I guess I just assumed that malls were kind of a dying thing—but the first thirty seconds of being in one is absolutely proving me wrong.
“Wow.”
There are some people I automatically recognize from school.
I duck my head, pulling Riley to the side. “I’m not ready for this.”
“You totally got this,” she says. “Head high, yeah?”
“I’ve got the urge to turn invisible.”
She shakes her head. “This is your public debut. There are no golden boys here looking down on you—just mean girls and their boyfriends.”
I snort. “I think that’s worse.”
“Arguably. But we can’t let that stop us, otherwise we’d never leave our houses. Let’s go check out the makeup—I loved that lip stain you wore the first day.”
Right. That lip stain helped stop me from chewing on my lips, which tends to be one of my responses to anxiety. The urge to trap my lower lip between my teeth comes over me again. It seems like people are staring, but that has to be my nerves.
Paranoia, even.
I follow Riley from store to store, although I’m hesitant to spend the money Robert gave me. It feels almost too precious, like I need to stash it away in case something bad happens. In the next four months… or beyond. Once I’m out, I don’t really know where I’m going to go.
Will I even have a chance to finish out the school year at Emery-Rose?
Will I even want to?
In the end, I walk out of the shoe store with new boots in a bag and tennis shoes laced on my feet. My old pair goes directly in the trash.
That’s one thing I had to splurge on. Riley practically insisted, bouncing on her heels next to me when I caved and brought the two pairs up to the register.
“Ready to eat?” she asks.
“Only if we can get froyo after.”
For the first time, I feel light. I make a mental note to call Claire and Hanna, to make sure they’re okay. It’s been a week, and I don’t even know where they might’ve been placed.
“Do you ever think of seeing your dad?” Riley asks.
We grab food and find an empty table.
“No.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Okay, that was a snappy answer. So, you’ve obviously thought about it.”
I lift one shoulder. Mom’s been MIA for years, and I’ve known exactly where Dad is… until he gets released. And then I’m assuming he’ll be in the wind, too. It’s not exactly an easy subject. When I was younger, he refused to let me visit him. And then I stopped trying. The message was obvious: he didn’t want me anywhere near him.
Abandoned by not one but two parents.
“I don’t want to talk about this,” I tell her. “Sorry.”
Her expression is sympathetic for a fleeting moment. Her gaze moves over my shoulder, the sympathy quickly shifting to wariness. “Incoming.”
It might be my imagination, but I swear the temperature in the room drops by ten degrees.
I twist in my seat, following her line of sight to the escalator. Four gorgeous boys lean on the railings, in various poses, on the way down. Liam, Eli, and Theo are joking around… but Caleb’s already found me.
Somehow.
His dark hair is wild. His black sweatshirt has the Emery-Rose Elite emblem on the front in gold, and his jeans are doing almost too much work clinging to his legs and ass. He seems, by all accounts, the picture of relaxed and confident.
His eyes tell a different story. They bore into mine, and I’m surprised at how much it hurts. The vitriol is apparent from here. It was apparent close up, too, but this is different. He’s projecting it across to me, and there’s some question in there, too.
A silent, how dare you show your face here?
A question I cannot answer.
I turn back around, focusing on my food, and hold my breath. Earlier, I just wanted to be invisible. But I’m not sure how to accomplish that when I seem to already have a target painted on my back. I wait for him to approach and make some threat. To feel his fingers on the back of my neck or sliding into my hair.
Am I so depraved that I can already picture it?
After a long moment of absolutely nothing happening, not even a hitched breath from Riley, I glance back.
I zero in on Caleb again. They’ve moved away from the elevator and to a table across the food court. His attention is focused on a seated, pretty blonde girl. He lifts her out of her seat and steals it, then lowers her onto his lap.
My heart spasms.
More than just knowing he wants another girl on his lap—here comes another wave of familiarity. Recognition.
I face Riley, my mouth drying. “Is that?—”
“Savannah Dunley.” Riley sounds pained. Maybe because Eli glares at her, and Caleb now completely ignores my existence.
“She and I?—”
“Used to be friends? I guess that was one of the rumors that was true.” She gives me a half-smile, shoving a bite of food in her mouth.
I’m confused.
“Her and Caleb?”
“They used to date.” She covers her mouth with her hand as she chews. “It was a quick thing. Kind of unmonumental, if you ask me.”
That’s so great. They used to date, but it was unmonumental? What the hell does that mean? Especially when he has her perched on his lap right now.
“I haven’t seen her since I’ve been back.” I make a face. “I kind of thought she must’ve transferred or something.”
“I heard she was gone last week.” Riley shrugs. “Her family goes on random trips. She’ll probably be back on Monday spinning stories of swimming with dolphins or having a private tour of the Taj Mahal.”
“That’s…” I wrinkle my nose. “Lavish.”
“She’s one of the lucky ones.” Riley sighs. “Trust me, if my parents could donate a building to the school, I’m sure they’d let me go for weeks at a time, too. She does half of her coursework online. Just watch, she’ll be here maybe four days of the five, every other week. And she’s not the only one who gets special treatment.”
“Why doesn’t Caleb do that?” I can’t help but twist around and watch them again. “It’d certainly make our lives easier.”
He’s talking in Savannah’s ear. She’s dressed exactly how I would imagine her to be. As a kid, her outfits were chosen by her parents. And now that she’s seventeen—maybe eighteen at this rate—she seems to have inherited their style. A pink cardigan over a white-collar shirt, a pleated skirt, and tights. White high-top tennis shoes. Her makeup is flawless, cheeks painted a pale shade of pink.
She puts her hand on his chest, her lips parting as if she’s surprised by what he’s saying.
Her eyes flash to me, hatred so blinding that I drop my fork. It clatters across the tile, and the noise draws eyes. Not for the first time, I get the urge to melt into the floor.
“Fuck,” I mutter, diving for my lost utensil. I reach for it, but once it’s in my grasp I just… pause. Take a breath.
I shouldn’t care that Savannah now seems to hate my guts. It could’ve just been a misunderstanding, or she was directing her ire at Caleb’s words and just happened to look at me.
Who’s to say she even recognized me?
“Margo,” Riley murmurs. She nudges my leg with her foot, narrowly missing my face.
Point taken, though. I can’t hide down here forever.
When I sit up, Caleb is at the head of our table. Closer to me than Riley, leaning forward and looming over me.
I have to crane my head back, he’s so close. He doesn’t touch me, just stares. I can’t decide if it’s better or worse.
“What?” I finally ask.
He grabs my wrist, squeezing so tight my bones grind together. “This is how you hold on to something, butterfingers. Go ahead. Try to break free.”
I tug on my arm, but his fingers hold fast.
“This isn’t funny.”
“We’re in agreement,” he replies.
I stand and yank, but he doesn’t let go. He jerks me forward, off balance, and then backward. He twists my arm behind my back easily, folding me like a piece of paper. A twinge of pain travels up my arm, and I bend to relieve it. Bend and bend and bend until I’m staring at the floor and his shoes.
“Caleb—”
“Beg.”
My stomach knots, and I glare up at him. “Are you serious?”
“You want it to stop? You want me to let you go? It’s clear you can’t do it on your own.”
I shake my head. Helplessness crawls along my skin. My face is level with his groin, and a sudden shot of fear bleeds through me.
We’re in a crowded mall—but what if this was happening in private?
As it is, no one tries to stop him.
“Please,” I whisper. “Please let me go.”
He drops my wrist, stepping back and grunting in disgust. Something flashes in his eyes—like he’s angrier that I’ve given in to him. And yeah, maybe I should’ve stayed strong. Maybe I should fight the bully next time and make an even bigger scene.
I straighten slowly, smoothing my shirt and ignoring the pulse in my wrist.
The whole food court is staring at us.
They’re not going to reprimand him, though. He’s Caleb Asher, heir to a Rose Hill fortune. If his business up and moved out of the county, how many jobs would be lost? How many people would that devastate?
Just another thing I learned in my first week at Emery-Rose Elite.
Caleb is royalty, and it gives him certain privileges I could never hope of holding. One is that no one says a word to him about his treatment of me as he winds through the tables. He heads back to his friends like nothing happened.
I glare at his back, hoping he can feel it. If he does, he’s unfazed. His shoulders remain even, his back straight. When he sits back down, he leans into Savannah and kisses her.
Their lips part, and his tongue plunges into her mouth. They aren’t so much kissing as… he’s invading her. She’s trying to keep up, but this is so much more of a show than true intimacy.
He must get off on that shit. Or he’s doing it to drive another nail into my heart, because my whole body feels like I’m drowning. At the same moment I’m glad he’s out of reach, I don’t want him to touch anyone else.
Why do I care?
If he kissed me like that, I’d punch him. I haven’t actually had a boyfriend, but I’ve read enough romance books to know that kissing someone like you’re conquering them isn’t showing them you care.
It’s just a performance, and I’m sick of being his captive audience.
When it doesn’t stop, I frown. “We need to leave.”
She sighs. “Figured you’d say that.”
“I just need to get the paint for Robert, and then we should go.”
We do that, and I practically drag Riley to her car.
“I don’t think I like the mall,” I tell her.
She laughs but nods, too. She picked up a few things, including a little crafting set for her mom in the art supply store. Bags dangle from her wrist. The car beeps, the trunk clicking as it opens. We put our stuff inside, and I exhale.
Caleb is probably still lording over the food court, but I can’t stop looking over my shoulder. While my wrist has a few red splotches, my pride hurts worse.
“Hey, Applebottom.”
Riley turns instinctively, her face shuttering when she sees Eli.
“Where you running off to?” he asks her.
He’s more sly than Caleb. A bit on the leaner side, a hair shorter. His hair is light brown, almost blond, and hangs over his forehead. The tips just barely brush his eyelids. He rakes a hand through it, displacing the strands for a moment. They fall right back in place, and he smirks at her.
Not me. He doesn’t give a shit about me.
“Just leave us alone,” I say to him.
He smirks. Hands in the pockets of his jeans, he’s the picture of ease. But something about him seems almost predatory, and Riley is definitely his intended target.
He’s handsome, too. Maybe not as much as Caleb—or I have a one-track brain—but still enough to get himself in trouble. Hot guys are always in trouble and slip out of it just as easily.
His dark-brown eyes stay focused on Riley. “Come talk to me.”
Riley eyes him, her teeth worrying at her lower lip. She’s holding on to my arm, and for a moment it seems like she’s going to tuck herself harder against my body. Forcing him to leave or pry her away.
He lifts his chin, the picture of bored indifference. “Just you. I don’t give a shit about your friend, and Asher isn’t going to scare her while we’re gone.”
I scowl at him, but surprise radiates through me when Riley releases my arm.
“I’ll be okay.” She nods, more likely attempting to convince herself than him, and follows Eli around the corner of the building. She doesn’t even leave me her keys.
I lean against the car and wait, and ten minutes pass before Riley comes storming back toward me. Her expression is fierce, but her hair is messed up… and it might be my imagination, but her lips seem swollen.
“You okay?” I raise my eyebrows when she gets close enough.
She grunts. “Perfectly fine.”
Uh-huh.
She studiously ignores my gaze and unlocks the car. She climbs in, and I follow suit. The car rumbles to life, but she doesn’t put it in drive. We sit in silence for a moment, and I roll my eyes.
“What happened?” I ask.
“Nothing.” She frowns. “I’m all good. He’s just an asshole.”
I’m not buying her act, but I don’t think I can press her any more without risking the friendship. So I settle on saying softly, “And we know just how to deal with them, don’t we?”