“Have you?” Emma asks.
If Emma finds out the truth, who knows what she’ll do with that information. What if hates me so much she marches right up to my mother and ruins my entire career in an instant? Not to mention her sister will kill me if anyone finds out about her cheating.
I’ve never been good at lying to Emma, but I’m not about to let her destroy my life. “No.”
Her eyes narrow, searching me. “Are you and Mallory”—she lowers her voice and holds her hand by her mouth to try and stop others from overhearing—“seeing each other?”
My lungs deflate and I almost choke. “Of course not.”
How could she suggest something like that? I’ve never thought of Mallory that way. If anything she’s like a sister. A sister who just blackmailed me into stealing a test for her.
Emma lowers her hand and chews at her bottom lip. “Have you ever wanted to hurt her?”
My mind flashes back to this morning when Emma ran at me screaming about how I murdered her sister. Now, she’s asking if I’d want to hurt Mallory?
I roll my eyes. “I’m not doing this with you.”
She doesn’t deserve to meddle in my life. Not after the way she left it. I’ll take my own advice and ignore her.
“Like I want to talk to you,” she mumbles.
My chest burns with spite. If she doesn’t want to talk to me, then why is she over here? She should go back to her corner seat and let us go back to pretending the other doesn’t exist. That’s the way it’s supposed to be.
Sam makes his way back over to us. “Okay, you two, did you make up?”
Neither one of us smiles, we just stare at him, answering the question without words.
“Fun,” he says, clicking his tongue. “Well, class is about to start so I kind of need my seat back.” He scratches the back of his neck, and his eyes falter like he’s afraid to ask her to move.
Emma’s glare softens and a little coy smile tugs at her mouth. “Hey Sam, how well do you know my sister?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. We have a couple classes together I think.”
“Do you ever talk to her?”
“Not much. Why?”
“What about him?” She points at me. “Does he ever hang out with my sister?”
He laughs. “Myles doesn’t have time for that. He barely has time to hang out with me.”
“And why’s that?” she asks.
Sam, be quiet.
I shake my head ever so slightly, hoping he’ll take the hint. I’m afraid of what he’ll say to her.
Unfortunately, he can’t read my mind, and I’m pleading with my eyes for him not to tell her anything else.
I scratch my head, digging my nails into my skull to try and distract myself.
Sam shrugs. “He’s busy—”
I kick him.
He yelps, wincing, and shoots me a nasty look.
Emma leans closer to him. “With what?”
