One act of kindness and I’ve forgotten who they are and what they’ve done to me.My hand gripped the lumpy spine of the book so hard my knuckles turned white.I’ll not forget again.
I flushed the toilet, yanked the door open, and stormed into the room. Ayaz looked up from the kitchen, where he was stirring a bowl of eggs. “What the—”
I threw the book down on the bench. Ayaz stiffened, his whisk hand frozen. Trey’s face darkened, and Quinn… Quinn’s lower lip trembled. The Kings stared at the book, then at each other, then finally at me.
I broke the deafening silence. “Well?”
“It’s not what it looks like—” Ayaz started.
I held up a hand. “Don’t even fucking pull that shit. What I’m looking at here – is it some kind of torture guide passed down from one generation of bullies to the next? I can’t even fathom how malicious you have to be in order to pull something like this, year after year after year. So go on, out with it, is this why you were being nice to me? Because you wanted me to find this?”
Quinn beamed, but his smile was all crooked and broken. “I was always nice to you, Hazy.”
“No, you weren’t!” My voice rose. I was in serious danger of becoming hysterical. “I don’t think you did any of the really mean things, like the maggots or tearing up my journal, but you liked making me uncomfortable. Even when you took me to that party, it wasn’t you trying to get to know me as a person. You just wanted to be with someone who was unique, a challenge.”
Quinn looked hurt. “That wasn’t—”
“Yes, it was. But at least you never hated me.” I jabbed a finger at Trey’s stomach. “Youwanted me gone from the minute I walked out of the car.”
“You don’t know the whole story,” Trey said, his jaw tightening.
“Yeah? Well, theReader’s Digestversion you’ve given me doesn’t exactly paint a flattering portrait. And you,” I jabbed a finger at the folder, then turned my gaze to Ayaz. “You didn’t evenknowme. You saw yourself reflected back at you, and it made you ashamed.”
“You think you got us all figured out, Meat,” Ayaz hissed. “You have no idea what we’ve done for you.”
I folded my arms. “No offense, but you’ve done nothing this year that makes me able to trust you. You give me your points, and you take me back here and give me medicine and coffee, and you expect me to believe all this isn’t some elaborate prank you’re setting up? Forget it. You destroyed the most precious thing I owned, so this psychological game you’re playing doesn’t even come close to measuring up to that.”
“What precious thing?” Quinn looked genuinely confused. “You guys melt down her dead mother’s jewelry or something?”
“Dante’s journal!” I cried.
“That shitty book of scribbles?” Trey laughed. “If that’s your most prized possession, then you really are more pathetic than we thought.”
“We can buy a new notebook for you to scribble on,” Quinn said. “Headmistress West won’t even question it if it came from us.”
“You don’t understand.” My hands balled into fists. I whirled around and stalked out of the room. “You never even tried to understand.”
“Well, fuck you very much!” Trey called after me as I slammed the door so hard the wall rattled. In the hallway, students turned in surprise.
What the fuck are you doing in Ayaz’s room?” Tillie cried out. I shoved past her without answering, barreling through kids in my desperation to reach the stairs.
No more Kings. No more flirting. No more entertaining the idea that they might be half-decent guys under all that privilege and bullshit. No more hoping that those stolen moments with Quinn and Trey could be more than they were.
I’m done.
Chapter Thirty-One
I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling. Confused thoughts rolled around in my head. All day I’d been avoiding the Kings. I managed to fake a sore throat and was excused from singing at rehearsals, and at breakfast and lunch I grabbed fruit from the bowl and ate it in between classes, which wasn’t allowed, but no one stopped me. I managed to completely avoid Greg and Andre. Between activities, I crawled back into my bed with only the company of rats and tried to figure out what the fuck was going on.
The shadows in the gym, the glowing star, the infernal rats in the walls, that horrible, horrible folder of faces, all crossed out…
But I also hadn’t mistaken the conversation I’d overheard when they thought I was asleep. All that stuff they talked about, it sounded like some weird secret club. Did it have anything to do with the teachers going down to the gym in their academic gowns? And Loretta’s sudden re-appearance?
I know from watchingGilmore Girlsthat the children of privilege loved a good secret society, but was one in force here at Derleth? I was guessing so, based on those tattoos I saw on their wrists. But did it have something to do with the fire that killed all those students?
What sick prank were the Kings and their secret club cooking up next? Why were they so interested in me? Why did they care about what happened to Mum and Dante? Panic circled in my gut as I though back to the day I’d made that statement to the police, my hands wrapped in bandages, how they’d glared at me with a mixture of horror and suspicion, but didn’t have enough evidence to charge me.
There had to be a prank, a design of some sort. Because there was no way those guys were being nice to me out of the goodness of their hearts. Especially not after I said all that stuff… I cringed as I recalled my words, how I’d taken those tiny nuggets of realness they’d given me and thrown it back in their faces. They deserved it, but I still didn’t feel good about it.
