But then, Megan had dealt with that kind of crap for months after J.D. broke up with her and spread rumors about her. As a star athlete at Crestwood and the son of the richest guy in town—except for the mayor—J.D. had a lot of clout around school.
Now it was Bailey’s turn to be on the outs with everyone. She slumped into the driver’s seat of the car so hard a few drops of coffee splashed on the dark floral skirt she’d paired with a grunge-inspired flannel shirt.
“You okay?” Megan asked her as she smoothed a hand over her own neat denim skirt and tights that she wore with some kind of video-gamer T.
Bailey edged the Volvo out onto the street for the quick trip into the student parking lot.
“Fine. It wasn’t that hot.”
“I don’t mean the coffee.”
“I know.” She sipped her drink and welcomed the jolt of caffeine into her exhausted body. “I don’t care what they say.” Much. Although it did suck to be the topic of gossip all the time.
“Some girls get off on drama. It’s their oxygen. They’ll die a painful, suffocating death if they’re not constantly immersed in a soap opera.” Megan sipped her tea through the plastic top of her cup and pointed to a vacant parking space.
“I know. And seriously, they don’t bug me as much as that fight with my dad.” She’d already told Megan the basics since she’d picked her up that morning. “Can he really cut me off from Mom if I want to talk to her?”
“I’m not sure.” Megan didn’t say much as they crossed the parking lot, and it occurred to Bailey she probably shouldn’t have brought it up since Bailey’s mom had to be high on Meg’s list of despised people.
And, of course, who could blame her?
She sipped her coffee, berating herself for being a crappy friend, and hurried toward the side gates leading into the campus. There was still a chance they could beat the first bell.
But why were so many kids still outside? The lawn and outdoor hallways were crowded with kids in Crestwood’s B-wing.
“What’s going on?” she heard Megan ask a girl from the school band on the fringes of the mob.
“Look who’s back in school.” The blonde hefted her violin case higher in her arms, simultaneously raising her phone to take a photo of the drama. Then, before Baileycould figure out what she was doing, the girl gave a shrill whistle and raised her voice. “Hey, guys! Bailey McCord is here.”
The crowd quieted. Other students lifted their phones in unison, as if the whole world wanted a photo.
What the hell?
But then the group parted suddenly, opening up to make a path for her and Megan.
“Oh God,” Megan whispered, sliding an arm around Bailey’s shoulders.
Because in the center of the students stood J. D. Covington.
Her ex-boyfriend.
Her abuser.
Out of jail and walking around her high school like he belonged here.
Bailey’s coffee fell out of her hand as Megan pulled her away. Numb and scared, she followed her friend blindly. It didn’t matter where they went as long as it was far away from here. She didn’t care about the drama or the fact that her reaction had just been captured on cell-phone video by at least a hundred kids and would go viral before lunch. She felt a passing hysterical moment of gratitude that she hadn’t at least peed her pants, and she giggled.
“Whatever is so funny, you’d better share it now because I want to throw up.” Megan sounded terrified.
Only now did Bailey realize her friend’s hand was shaking where she held hers. She squeezed it tight.
“I’m thanking God I didn’t piss myself when a thousand camera phones were trained on me.”
“I guess that’s about as much of a bright side as we could expect, isn’t it?” Megan opened a door as the bell rang.
Only they weren’t in class. Her friend had brought them to the guidance office.
“What are we going to do?” She looked around the waiting room, where a handful of other kids signed in to see their counselors, class schedules in hand. If only her problem was as simple as changing math teachers.
