Chapter thirty-two
Bexley
“Can you believe Sagg has been studying with your guys?” Abby comments quietly while laughing to herself. “It’s actually so cute!”
Soph elbows me, wriggling her eyebrows in sheer amusement. “How does it feel? I bet it’s fucking weird. I’m not entirely convinced that we’re not in some type of Sims stimulation and someone is messing with us.”
The contrast between the pair of them is both accurate and hilarious.
I nod at Abs, keeping a wide berth as a bunch of jocks head toward us down the hallway.
“Oh, for sure. Someone out there has a warped sense of humor. I would have bet my left kidney that they wouldn’t have interacted pleasantly in a million years. ”
Abs lets out a dreamy sigh. “You don’t give them enough credit, Bex! Sagg is a big softie at heart.”
“Yeah, but my brother is an asswipe,” Soph quickly adds. “Maybe they suffered a simultaneous concussion. It’s the only explanation for their sudden change of mental growth.”
“Did you hit Tai over the head?” I joke accusingly. “That Kindle is a weapon of mass destruction.”
“Only to my lady bits,” Soph claps back. “And please be real—I’d never bring harm or disrespect to my Kindle like that. Even if Tai’s head is awfully enticing.”
The guys bailed on me last night. But I didn’t find out until Archie rocked up with an armful of snacks and his textbooks. Once again, apparently a group effort by the newest collection of misfits.
Instead of people trying to keep me and my right-hand man apart, now I have them coordinating visits like I need supervising.
Maybe they are all dicked out. I did provide ample warning that I could handle the three of them.
After watching a very cute PDA session at the Bexley custody handover, I say goodbye to the girls and head into Biology with Archie as he takes his shift.
Yep—I’m confident that this is what’s happening behind the scenes because, outside of work hours, it’s oddly suspicious that someone is always with me.
Initially I had thought that maybe it was some type of protection detail, which, truthfully, annoyed me because I’m not worried about Mayor Astor or Dean Lannister.
They can shove their threats up their pee holes.
If they want to harm me they can schedule it in and make an appointment.
I’m too busy to deal with their tantrums.
But now… I’m starting to think this has nothing to do with anyone’s lack of confidence in my ability to protect myself.
I think they are protecting people from me.
In my defense, Liv had it coming.
After clocking her in the face, I grabbed Peyton and took off like a bat out of hell. And I’m more annoyed at the fact I probably can’t return to my favorite Olive Garden now.
I guess I deserve it, though. I stole the guy she wanted so she took my breadsticks.
It’s okay. I’ll just convince Ry to order me a bunch through his handy little app. That will work. Loopholes for the win.
We slip into our seats and as the rest of the class slowly saunter in, wearing the same matching shade of exhaustion, I scan the room.
Speaking of the devil and she shan’t appear.
Liv is noticeably absent, but I have no doubt it’s nothing to do with the injury itself and just her vapid reaction to not wanting people to see her with a bruised face.
Honestly… it’s not that deep. I do it all the time.
Mr. Martin shuffles a stack of papers, his lavender hair sticking up in various directions. He waits for everyone to be seated before draping his mismatched jacket over the back of his chair and leaning casually against his desk, facing the room.
“Ooh, who’s excited?” He grins, eyes bouncing around the room. “Exams next week!”
Clearly Arch and I are some of the only ones to get the sarcasm, chuckling low while the class look either horrified or pissed off.
A loud huff catches my attention and I spot Sierra in the second row, flicking her hair at a footballer while making some obnoxious comment about how exams are not fun.
Obviously, Sierra. That’s what the man is implying.
When no one gives her the reaction she’s after, there’s a moment of panic before Sierra dramatically makes a wild, theatrical gesture with spirit fingers. “We’re all, like, really stressed!” She says to Mr. Martin, waving her hands around unnaturally.
You can almost hear the choreo music as her digits bop to some invisible beat.
I sink in my seat out of pure embarrassment for her, shooting Arch a cry for help, as I find myself wishing Liv was here to save us from this performance.
Apparently when the head cheerleader isn’t around, Sierra becomes determined to find a way to put the spotlight on herself.
Someone needs to tell the poor girl that the bulb is busted.
Like a champ, Mr. Martin nods encouragingly, clearly the bigger person out of the two of us. “Absolutely. It is a very stressful time for you all. Which is why I encourage you to think outside of the box.”
“It’s a square,” Sierra interjects. “You think outside a square because that’s what boxes are.”
“Fuck me,” I mutter quietly to Archie. He muffles a grin, ducking his head low to hide his face.
Mr. Martin smiles warmly at her. “Indeed it is.” Pausing, he glances around the room. “Just remember—you have something other seniors don’t have. A special power, if you will.”
A few people straighten up, pens at the ready, keen to hear about this secret sorcery. But they sag in disappointment when he continues, “You have dual knowledge from two different institutions!”
“That’s boring!” Perkins shouts out and Arch shoves my arm back down when I lift my textbook, preparing to launch it straight at Perkins’ idiotic head. What was he expecting? The ability to absorb books by putting your hand on the cover or levitation?
“Just think what you can achieve if you put your heads together,” Mr. Martins says, beaming at the class. “The exchange of knowledge—sharing techniques and skills. You have the opportunity to be great!”
The usual suspects scoff at the suggestion, but to my surprise, some students actually seem to be considering the idea. Mutual glances and whispers emerge, and I actually spot pieces of paper being swapped between Cedar Heights and Willowbrook peers.
Well, shit. Mr. Martin may have just used the fear of failure to trick rivals into agreeing to world peace. Without the use of tampons.
I think he might have some Willowbrook blood in him after all.
Arch and I hang back to chat to Mr. Martin for a few minutes after the bell while the rest of the school starts to head off for the day.
There’s still some lingering bodies as we walk down the hallway, deep in conversation when I automatically come to a stand still before I can realize why.
I narrow my eyes at the man in our pathway, already feeling the air turn icy from his presence.
As if sensing the apocalyptic vibes, the last few remaining people suddenly clear out, leaving Arch and I alone with him.
Mayor Astor slowly stalks toward us, a slimy smirk on his face. “Ms. Spencer,” he drawls out coldly. “Always a pleasure.”
“I wish I could say the same,” I reply, biting back a growl when Arch shoves a warning elbow into my side.
The Mayor just chuckles, unfazed. “You appear to be missing some people.”
It’s a slap to reality. The second the words leave his mouth I pick up on who he’s referring to.
I haven’t seen Ry, Tai, or Hunter all day. Just a casual exchange of brief texts with Tai. But I’m so exhausted that between the contact, and being surrounded and distracted by my Cedar friends constantly, I didn’t even clue in on the fact they weren’t physically around.
I try not to let it alarm me. But it does.
We’re days out from the beginning of the exams and it’s not like them to be absent from the academy. Or at least, present in some way, shape, or form.
Coupled with the fact they bailed on me last night, it’s a full lights and sirens situation in my mind, especially given this asshole’s sudden appearance.
It’s bad, isn’t it?
Maybe if I was a glass half-full kind of person I would find some reasonable explanation to cling to. Tell myself he’s just trying to get in my head and mess with me. But history and my delightful trauma have taught me to always assume the worst, to be guarded and prepared.
And this is that situation.
God. I really want to just tell myself to be optimistic, to be stronger and not let this get under my skin.
But I just know.
I know something is seriously wrong.
And it’s written all over Mayor Astor’s smug face.
“You put up a decent fight, Ms. Spencer,” he says.
“But your mistake was thinking you are anything useful outside of these walls.” Glancing at Archer, a smirk crosses his face.
“All of you make the grave error of believing you hold any real power. You will never be prepared to accept the truth. I can take them from you just as easily as I can make you comply.”
I shake my head, taking a step forward. “I can take you, Mayor Astor. You’re the one making the mistakes.”
He took them. Or… Did they leave?
See… They used you. This was their plan all along. That’s why they abandoned you last night.
Just like Dad.
“Delusion is fatal, Ms. Spencer. You should have listened when I gave you the courtesy.”
I stare at him expressionlessly until he turns, ready to leave. Panic floods through me and I rush forward again, anger taking a hold of my control.
“Don’t you dare hurt him!”
Mayor Astor pauses, finding me over his shoulder. “Goodbye, Ms. Spencer. Best of luck to you and Mr. Roberts.”
And then he’s gone, disappearing out of sight. In the distance I hear the entrance doors of Willowbrook swing shut, and my eyes go wide as I try to process what the fuck just happened.
“Bex—”
“What the hell was the deal last night?” I ask, swinging around to face Arch. “Why did you come over?”
Arch halts, confusion forming on his features. “What? You asked me to come over.”
I gape at him. “I most certainly did not. You turned up at my house.”
“You texted me.”
I feel like I’m in that damn Sims stimulator because what is he even talking about? We’re not even in the same book, let alone the same page.
When I don’t reply, only offering wild, perplexed anger, Arch pulls out his phone. He opens our text chain, rotating the screen toward me. “See.”
The words are familiar… except the last line. A clear message from me apparently, telling Arch my plans had changed and to come study—followed by a request of my favorite snacks.
“I didn’t send that,” I mutter darkly. “I swear, Archie, if this is some plan with them, I’m going to lose my shit. It was cute at first but I’m getting sick of this whole overriding me thing.”
Arch’s arm drops, his fingers clutching the phone. “You’re not making sense, Bex,” he snaps back, offended. “I’m not plotting against you. Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?”
I hate that we’ve come to this—that Mayor Astor has caused us to turn on each other. We haven’t had a fight in years, but I’m too heated to care and back down, desperately clinging to the only control I have right now.
Our raised voices echo around the empty hallway as I grab my own phone. “Look. Nothing!” I shout, showing him. “Why do I have a security detail all of a sudden? What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing!” Arch yells back. “You’re being paranoid. I only did exactly what I was told. Which was you telling me to come over to study.”
“I didn’t send that!” I repeat exasperated. “Fuck this,” my voice drops to a mutter as I find that app Tai installed. We have to figure this out before we do or say something that can’t be taken back.
Opening the stalker app, I zoom out of the map, searching for their bobble heads. Rylan is near his house, not moving. But Tai and Hunter are nowhere to be seen.
“What?” I murmur, confused as I frantically click on the settings trying to find them.
They aren’t anywhere and, short of wasting time, I smash the back button and go straight to the keypad, dialing Tai’s number. When it rings out to voicemail, I try Hunter.
Nothing.
Rylan’s phone doesn’t even bother to ring at all.
And the last bit of control I had vanishes completely.
“What the fuck is going on?” I whisper, clutching my head anxiously as I start to pace the hallway.
Arch takes a step toward me, concerned. “Let’s call our people and regroup,” he offers. “But for now, we need to stay calm.”
No sooner have the words left his mouth, the sound of approaching footsteps zap my nerves back into focus.
I spin around, at the ready to face Mayor Astor when instead, there’s another unwanted person taking his place.
“Ms. Spencer,” Dean Lannister greets in a cold tone.
“You have to be kidding me,” I murmur under my breath, glancing back at Arch.
But his focus isn’t on me. My panic has transferred to his expression, eyes blown wide on something behind me.
I turn slowly, realizing more footsteps are heading our way.
Three male police officers step past Dean Lannister, the lead one holding a pair of handcuffs as he marches toward me.
Before I even involuntarily try to dodge them, rough hands are grabbing me, shoving my hands behind my back as cool metal encloses around my wrists and binds them together.
“Wait!” I plead but a deep voice cuts me off, my eyes frantically searching for Archie. “Arch!”
I hear him yell my name, finally spotting him being detained by one of the other officers.
“Archie—Call Lark!” I manage to croak out before we’re dragged apart and I lose sight of him completely.
“Bexley Spencer, you are under arrest for the charge of battery against Ms. Olivia Winston.”