“Don’t scratch it.” I slapped his hand away from his wrist. “You need to sleep.”
“You really believe them?” Greg glanced over at Quinn and Ayaz. Quinn slouched in an overstuffed leather chair, rummaging through Trey’s liquor cabinet. Ayaz packed up the tattoo machine, placing each instrument carefully back into the box. “They’re the bullies.”
I sighed. “It’s complicated. I believe them. I’ve seen too much tonight with my own eyesnotto believe them. But I don’ttrustthem. I don’t think I can ever trust them.”
Andre climbed on the sofa and slumped next to Greg, digging around in his pocket for his pad and pen. Andre scribbled a note and passed it to me.
“They like you,” it read.
I rubbed my lower lip. My skin still buzzed where all three guys had kissed me. I’d never even had a boyfriend before, and tonight I kissedthreedead monarchs.
But why?Quinn I understood – sex was his protective shield. He flirted and fucked because it was better than facing his bitter reality. But Ayaz ran so hot and cold, his mind and heart so closed off, that I couldn’t even believe his kiss was real.
And Trey… Trey hated me from the moment I arrived at Derleth Academy. He may have been made into this monster, but he embraced his role as the King of Kings. The kiss in the locker room I could understand… he’d just faced down his father and so desperately wanted comfort, but he was too proud and too mean to ask. It was a moment of weakness and I was the closest victim.
But tonight? What wasthatabout?
They like fucking with me, I wrote, handing the note back. Andre gave me a sly smile as he tucked the pad away.
The clock on the oven read 3:14AM. I could barely keep my eyes open. Quinn went into Trey’s room and a moment later returned, dragging a very naked Trey by the ear.
“Ow. What gives?” Trey complained.
“Hazy gets the bed. We all agreed. Look at her, dude. She needs sleep.”
“It’s my bed,” Trey roared. “She’s got her own, downstairs, with the rats.”
“And she’s not going anywhere near it tonight, not before we’ve dealt with the student body. The two charity cases can sleep on the sofa. You and I are staying awake,” Quinn said.
“It’s fine,” I said, my eyes fluttering shut. “I’m not a damsel in distress. I’ll just stay here with Greg and Andre. Trey doesn’t need to give up his bed—”
Ayaz already had his arms around me, lifting me off the ground. I was too weak to argue. He dumped me unceremoniously on the bed. The door pulled shut behind me, leaving me all alone in Trey’s bedroom.
Trey’s bedroom.
I slid off the bed, exhausted but eager to peek into this private side of Trey and maybe understand him better. But there wasn’t really much to see. An enormous bed mussed up from where he’d been lying only moments ago. A stack of books on the nightstand. A poster of the lacrosse team and some awards and trophies stacked in a glass cabinet along one wall.
I paused in front of the trophies, reading a few of the titles. Player of the Year. Class President. Captain of the Debate Team. All carrying the crest of Miskatonic Prep. All from twenty years ago. Beside them, a row of ribbons with Derleth’s crest, naming him Valedictorian for every subsequent year. Trey had been king of this school in every way, holding on to his crown with an iron fist.
Does he ever get tired of it? Does he ever wonder what’s the point?
Curious now, I flicked through the stack of books.Wuthering Heights, a history textbook, some horror novel calledAt The Mountains of Madness. In the top drawer of the bedside cabinet I found a mess of condoms, chocolate wrappers, and a college prospectus with dog-eared corners.
I picked up the prospectus and opened it across my knees.
All the faces had been scribbled out in angry red pen. Words scrawled across the page in violent script.
NO FUTURE. NO HOPE. NO TOMORROW.
I ran my hand over the page, feeling the bumps in the paper where he’d pressed the pen so hard he’d scored right through. On that single page, I saw more of the real Trey Bloomberg than I’d seen all quarter.
Imagine being stuck in senior year for two decades.
Trey Bloomberg was rich, beautiful, clever, well-connected. He had everything going for him.
Everything except for a future.
The prospectus weighed heavy in my hands. I replaced it and shoved the drawer shut, wishing I hadn’t snooped. I rubbed my hands together. Bits of dried mud flaked off and fell on the pristine cream carpet. My knee and wrist throbbed with pain. Even though I was struggling to keep my eyes open, I needed to clean up before I crawled between the sheets.
