Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
TARYN
Istrolled up the steps to Ashford High.
When I entered through the front doors, all eyes were on me—some with admiration, some with suspicion, and others with outright hatred.
I appreciated the latter for their honesty, if nothing else.
I didn’t smile.
Smiling suggested friendliness and weakness. I was neither of those things, no matter what Ben thought.
I went straight to my locker and spun the dial slowly, deliberately. There was a loud click when it opened. Three girls rushed to my side before I’d even cracked the door.
Madison stood to my right, her blonde ponytail pulled tight and her cheer jacket half-zipped.
Brooke hovered to my left, phone in hand, pretending to scroll while watching every reflection in the locker door.
If there was gossip to be found, that girl was on top of it…
if not responsible for starting it. Lila stayed half a step back—always half a step—her quiet eyes flicking between my face and the hallway.
She was my only true friend, but I kept her at a distance just like the other two.
They were assets.
Not my friends.
I couldn’t have friends because they would ask too many questions about my home life. I kept them at a distance. It all worked out, though, because they desperately wanted the benefits of my power and accepted my boundaries without question.
Except for Lila, I suspected she stayed because she genuinely cared about me. I should have pushed her aside years ago, but I couldn’t. I guess my father was right about my tender heart.
“Coach is benching Ethan on Friday,” Madison said, low and excited. “He mouthed off during drills.”
That wouldn’t work. Without Ethan, we wouldn’t make the playoffs, and I was determined for us to get there. The playoffs would mean a weekend getaway, and I really needed that break.
“He’ll be starting.” I grabbed the books I needed and slammed my locker shut.
Brooke laughed. “I figured you’d take care of it.”
Two lockers down, a freshman dropped her notebook, papers rustling softly on the tile. I noticed her breath catch and her eyes dart toward the water fountain, where three girls were leaning in too close, whispering as if they’d been waiting for this moment.
Madison leaned toward me. “That’s Jenna. She’s been dating—”
“I know,” I said, cutting her off.
I walked to the fountain slowly, without rushing. The girls there stiffened. One of them straightened up, trying to act cool, but the trembling in her hands gave her away. She was just a scared little girl, exactly like the rest of them.
“You know Aaron would never ask you out, no matter how you treat Jenna,” I smirked. “She’s way prettier than you are, anyway.”
“I—I don’t know what you mean?” She stuttered, eyes tearing up.
“I think you do. Leave Jenna alone.” I raised my brow when she didn’t answer immediately.
Her friend elbowed her, and she nodded quickly.
“I can’t hear you.” I waited.
“Yes—okay. I’ll leave her alone.” She whispered, her eyes never leaving mine, the terror clear to see as a tear rolled down her face.
“Wise decision.”
Brooke giggled with Madison as I turned away, and they followed right behind. Nothing I’d done for Jenna had been out of the kindness of my heart. Now, Aaron owed me for saving his little toy, and he’d pay up by helping me get Ethan back in the game.
We moved down the hall together, shoes tapping against the tile. People didn’t exactly move out of our way; they adjusted, as if they’d always meant to be somewhere else. That was the sweet spot—fear that looked like choice.
“Are you coming to practice later?” Madison ran a hand down her ponytail.
“Yes, and I expect you to make sure everyone is on time. I have somewhere to be directly after.” I narrowed my eyes at them.
If it weren’t for cheerleading sometimes getting me away from Ben, I’d quit in a heartbeat. He didn’t accept extracurricular activities as an excuse for being late. In his mind, it was a frivolous distraction that kept me from preparing for whatever disaster he thought was coming this month.
They each nodded, and I trusted they would follow through, which is why I kept them around.
They peeled off toward their class, glancing back like they needed my approval. Lila lingered a beat longer.
“Are you okay?” she asked quietly.
I looked into her eyes—hopeful and eager for me to open up. She had been attempting to be a true friend since our first day of kindergarten. I’d allowed it until my stepbrother left and my father turned into a drill sergeant.
Those days were long gone.
“I’m fine,” I stated with disapproval. She knew better than to question me.
Her shoulders dropped.
I turned and headed toward my history class.
Mr. Rowen’s classroom was lively before the bell, louder than usual but still under control. He stood at the front with rolled-up sleeves, girls sighing at the sight: dirty blond hair, piercing blue eyes, straight posture, and precise movements.
The man never yelled because he didn’t need to. He was the kind of man who expected his authority to be taken seriously. I was always fascinated by the way he controlled the class so calmly because I knew the real him—the one he’d learned to hide as he grew older.
The hotheaded asshole I could still see in his eyes when he looked at me.
Mr. Rowen wasn’t much older than us, only in his mid-twenties. The senior girls used any excuse to stay after class, hoping to catch his attention. Dying to be the one who cracked that nut.
I sat in the back row, third seat from the aisle. It was a strategic move. Exit access was important. Ben had emphasized that in one of his many lessons, and it was deeply ingrained in my mind.
Mr. Rowen’s eyes flicked to me—just a hint of heat in them—but he looked away quickly.
I’m sure he didn’t think I’d noticed, but I was more perceptive than most people my age. I had to be, as Ben wouldn’t accept anything less.
I’d started a campaign a few months ago to get his attention. It was relevant to my plans for the dick. Despite his strong will, I saw heated eyes looking in my direction in class and in the hallway when we passed. Given his strong morals, I knew he wouldn’t act on them, but I didn’t need him to.
I knew I was beautiful. It didn’t matter to me the way it did to most girls my age. I merely considered it a tool I could pull out and use as needed, nothing more.
Another lesson from Ben.
“Good morning,” he eyed the class. “Settle down. It’s time for announcements.”
The room complied instantly.
Right on time, the intercom crackled:
“Good morning, Ashford High,” Principal Morales said, her voice overly bright. “A few announcements before we get started today.”
Chairs scraped. Pencils scratched against paper. A few people whispered back and forth.
Mr. Rowen cleared his throat and everyone quieted, sitting up straighter.
“Tomorrow night, we play Melville. Remember, it’s a red-out event—wear your red and get ready to cheer on the Bobcats.”
A pause, then the sound of papers shuffling.
“Happy birthday today to… Let’s see… Hayley Dempsey, Adaira Hickman, and Mrs. Hanks in the front office.”
There was a smattering of claps, and someone whooped.
“And finally,” she added, “for those interested, there’s supposed to be a meteor shower visible during the game. The Astronomy Club says it should be a good one if the skies stay clear. Now, please stand for the Pledge of Allegiance.”
We stood and recited it together, then the intercom clicked off.
Mr. Rowen launched into the lecture—governments, power distribution, and the illusion of permanence. I listened with half my attention, my mind on the moves I had to make later today.
“Why don’t societies collapse during periods of prosperity?” He asked in his husky voice.
Hands shot up.
He ignored them and turned those devastating blue eyes on me. “Taryn?”
Every head turned.
“Yes?” I raised one brow coolly, even as heat pooled low in my belly from having his full attention.
Get it together, Taryn. This asshole doesn’t deserve that kind of reaction from you. Lucas could go screw himself. He’d abandoned me as much as Adrian had.
“Answer the question.” He narrowed his eyes.
The demand in his voice made me shiver, and I noticed heat flare in his eyes at my reaction.
“Prosperity breeds denial,” I sighed in annoyance, hoping I’d wiped any sign of desire from my face. “People ignore fractures as long as things are working for them. By the time they admit there’s a problem, the damage is already structural.”
Silence.
Take that, dick. He thought he had me with that question.
Mr. Rowen considered my answer without reacting, the way someone weighs information—surprised at my reasoning.
“And the people who see those fractures early?” He watched me with curiosity.
“They leave and save themselves,” I answered without hesitation.
A few students shifted uncomfortably. Sheep.
“Interesting perspective.” He frowned briefly. “Thank you.”
The bell rang.
Students flooded the aisles, noise rising and order breaking down. I stood, slung my bag over my shoulder, and turned—only to nearly collide with Lucas Rowen.
He’d intentionally blocked my way.
“Walk with me,” he demanded more than asked.
We moved toward the windows overlooking the parking lot. The Texas sun spilled across the floor, bright and unforgiving. Trucks baked in neat rows outside, dust lifting when someone pulled out too fast.
“What’s this about?” I gazed out the window, trying to look unconcerned.
“The academic integrity committee,” he folded his arms. “They’re reviewing last week’s biology exam. Seems a few students got perfect scores that shouldn’t have.”
“I’m not in your biology class,” I pointed out.
“No,” he agreed. “But I proctor for the committee. They’re the ones inquiring.”
I smiled faintly. “So, this is an accusation.”
“Maybe,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Not formally, but I know you well enough to suspect you probably orchestrated it.”