Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
It’s a seven-minute walk from the chapel to the principal’s office, and Mr. Trevelen doesn’t utter a word to me the entire way there. Students stop to stare at us, whispering behind their hands, but not everyone looks happy about this walk of shame I’m on.
There’s some pity in those glances as well, but that shit is as useless to me right now as it has always been. Pity doesn’t fix anything; it doesn’t right wrongs or un-break what’s been broken. It’s as useless as the principal leading me through the building.
Mr. Trevelen ushers me into his office and then steps away to go check on Harlow, shutting the door firmly behind him.
It’s almost like he’s delaying the inevitable or maybe building his case to avoid a media scandal if I don’t take my expulsion well, but he’s shit out of luck there.
Joey didn’t just play the recording in the chapel, so chances are there are hundreds of digital footprints he’d have to contain to really cover his ass.
I also have to face the fact that the entire school heard the call. They all know about the worst thing that has happened to me.
Or so they think.
I wait for two whole minutes before I reach out and take the phone on Trevelen’s desk.
I punch in the one phone number I couldn’t forget even if I tried and I listen as it rings.
My gaze flits around on instinct, searching for access points, surveillance, and intel, but my eyes keep coming back to the watercolor painting of lilies over the bookshelf.
It’s pretty but bland. There’s no real passion in the strokes, just like every kid at this school. Pretty, vapid, empty, useless.
“How did you get access to the principal’s landline?”
Encased as I am by the Wolf’s cold protections, I don’t even feel fear or dread at the sound of the Jackal’s voice. Instead, I wonder absently again if he has eyes in the school.
My voice is flat, emotionless, and my eyes trace to the blood drying on my hands with detached interest as I lay my problem out for him. “They’re going to expel me. I broke a girl’s nose.”
He chuckles, sounding more like the Matteo of my childhood than the Jackal, but he stops when I don’t join him.
I can hear the chatter in the background.
He’s at his safe house, I can tell by the sounds of the ocean and the low tones of the shitty jazz rap he listens to when he’s plotting.
I recognize the voices as the henchmen he likes to surround himself with as a show of muscle to distract from the fact that this man is always the most dangerous one in the room.
“What’s happened, my Wolf?”
I’m not his. I will never be his. I will fight tooth and nail, with everything I have, to not be his girl. It doesn’t matter, though. I can never tell him that; only bide my time until I can make an escape.
“I need your help. I’m willing to call in a favor.”
I can hear him moving around and closing a door. “No favor necessary. Tell me what you need.”
His voice is gentle, soothing, the layered manipulation a complicated thing, but I stopped falling for his tricks a long time ago. I’m not the scared little girl on that 911 call anymore. I just need him to fix this for me; I need him to have my back again.
I twirl the phone’s cord around my finger and stare at it with glassy eyes. I need to hold onto this calm apathy for as long as I possibly can. “I cannot be expelled. I’m going to destroy the kid who is doing this to me.”
“What is he doing? I can remove his piece from the board if you want me to.” The offer to kill Joey for me is tempting. I’m definitely going to hell, because it takes me a full minute before I can reply.
“No. I’m going to beat him at his own game. It’s not satisfying if I can’t do it myself.”
He chuckles again, a dark rasp in my ear. “That’s my girl. I’ll fix it for you. No favor required, but I will ask that you make it to the Club meeting in the summer.”
He’s so intent on getting me to the meeting that I take note, filing it away for inspection at a later date when I can think clearly.
I hear the principal coming back, so I agree and hang up.
By the time I’ve straightened myself back into my chair, Mr. Trevelen strides back into his office.
He sits down and begins to fidget with his shirt cuffs.
He seems so nervous, and I should feel bad for putting him in this situation.
He believed in me enough to offer me the scholarship despite my emancipation. He fought with the school board for them to let me in. Now I just proved them all right. I’m just an angry girl from Mounts Bay who can’t fit in with the polished, upper-society teenagers. I’ve failed him.
Still, I feel nothing.
He finally clears his throat and opens his mouth. The phone rings. He frowns but holds up a finger to signal that I must wait. I nod, and he picks up the phone.
“Yvette, I’m sure I just asked you to hold my calls.”
He pauses and then turns ghostly pale.
“Put him through.”
Sometimes I’m amazed at the reach the Jackal has managed to achieve.
I doubt he even knew Hannaford existed before I told him I was applying here.
I also know the moment I got my scholarship, he would’ve hedged his bets.
Sure, he blocked my emancipation and forced me to lose out on two years of schooling, but there’s no doubt in my mind that he would’ve started to reach out and find out all the secrets he could to manipulate these people.
I wonder what Trevelen has done, what skeletons he’s hiding that Matteo found in his closet and is now threatening to shine a light on. From the look on his face, they must be pretty bad. He looks like he wants to vomit up his breakfast all over this lovely oak desk.
After a terse ‘of course,’ Mr. Trevelen hangs up and then he looks at me like he’s never seen me before, like he’s let a monster into his school.
He has.
“I’m going to let you off with a warning this time, Miss Anderson, in light of… new information. Harlow will also be receiving a warning for her prank on you. I won’t be so lenient if you choose to retaliate.”
I stare him down. I’m sure he would turn a blind eye to anything I choose to do from here on out now that he’s been threatened by the Jackal. After he really begins to sweat, I stand and nod obediently.
“I’m going to go get cleaned up. I’ll skip my next class, but I’ll attend study hall.”
He nods and motions for me to leave as he drags a silk handkerchief over his forehead to mop up his anxieties. I’m tempted to call the Jackal back and ask what buttons he pushed, but sometimes, ignorance is bliss. I’d rather not find out the depths of depravity this man has stooped.
Yvette stares at me as I walk out free and clear.
Classes have resumed, so I don’t see anyone on the way up to the girls’ dorms. I head into the bathroom to shower and clean Harlow’s blood off me.
I take my bag into the stall and I don’t let it out of my sight as I wash up.
The shaking starts as I dry off. It takes twice as long as it should to get dressed in a clean uniform, thanks to the trembling.
I will finish today with my head held high, and I’ll let myself crumble after I crawl into my bed tonight when this is all over.
As I walk into the library, all the eyes in the room follow me.
No one expected me to last the day, and yet here I am, taking my usual seat for study hall and ignoring the lot of them.
I will not cry. I won’t let them enjoy my tears.
I've survived my body being put through hell, but this sort of psychological torture grates against me. The Wolf has retreated, and the little girl who cried and screamed is back at the helm, the same one who has crushes on hot guys and wants to be liked by someone in this stupid school. I kind of hate her. I can’t wait to graduate and leave all this behind. So much for my new start.
I unpack my bag and set everything out on my desk in clear lines as the whispers get louder.
The only thing I can control right now is how neat my pencils are, so I measure everything out with my fingertips.
When that doesn't calm my racing heart, I start to count backwards from a hundred in French, my go-to for panic reduction.
The over-complicated number system keeps enough of my brain occupied that I can usually fight back the panic.
As the bell begins to ring, Avery, Ash, Harley, and Blaise walk in together.
My stomach clenches, but they sit at the table across from mine.
I didn’t know they all had the time allocated for study hall, I’ve never seen them in here before, and I’m pissed they decided to pull this crap today of all days.
I hear Avery snort out a laugh that doesn’t suit her manicured appearance. She’s the epitome of grace and beauty. When you think about the beauty that wealth can create, she’s exactly what you would picture.
She murmurs, “Stupid Mounties,” under her breath and then opens her books. She seems pissed about all of this, but I'm sure it's because she wanted to be the one to break me.
“Your brother really fucked up everyone’s chances of winning the sweep.”
Harley isn’t even trying to be discreet. I think he’s enjoying my downfall more than anyone else. The guy who bore witness to the retribution I wrought isn't in this room at all, so I'm left with the pompous asshole instead.
“She still looks at Blaise like she would enjoy a ride on his dick. Looks like the money is yours, man,” Ash drawls, and I want to kick his perfect face in.
I turn to give him a scathing look, but they’re all enjoying every second of this torture.
Harley is looking at me the same way he was in the chapel, and I try not to shiver at the intensity.
There’s something in his eyes, a recognition, that tells me he’s still trying to figure me out. Well, good luck.
Blaise stares over at me, and for the first time, he actually looks.
I squirm in my seat as his eyes trail over my scuffed shoes, nails chewed to the quick, and the mess of black curls that is my hair.
I know I look nothing like any of the girls at Hannaford, and for the first time since I started here, I feel pissed off about it.
I’ve never felt so out of place as in this school with all of these obscenely privileged kids.
“I don’t fuck fans.”
They all howl with laughter, and even Avery throws a smug look in my direction. I turn back to my computer and ignore the comments all around me as the other students snicker and join in. Only Lauren, who’s still sitting as far away from me as she can to not be targeted by association, is silent.
I decide on the spot that I’m going to burn my Vanth Falling t-shirt and sleep in the nude from now on. I will never listen to his beautiful voice again. I’d rather die than admire this guy anymore.
Abandoning my studies, I sign in to the computer and email all my classwork for the week to my teachers, my obsessive need to be ahead working in my favor once again.
I tell each of my them that I’m feeling unwell and will not be able to go to any classes in the foreseeable future.
Then I go to the dining hall and grab a box of protein bars.
I don’t leave my room for a week.