Part One
Summer Before Senior Year of High School
Chapter One
Zayn
“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Everett asks as we loiter at the bottom of the stone steps leading to the building where our summer school classes are being held.
“What’s not to be sure about?” I pull a long drag of my cigarette, blowing smoke circles into the warm New York air. “I told you I’m going to make them pay. Every last fucker who has hurt me and Roman will suffer.”
“But Emery isn’t directly involved,” he protests, and it’s not the first time I’m hearing this argument from my best friend.
“No one asked you to enroll. If you’ve changed your mind, I can hack into the WLU system and remove you from the schedule.” I know he won’t back out because he needs this program as an excuse not to join his family in The Hamptons.
Everett blows strands of inky-black hair out of his eyes, turning to glare at me. “Quit being a dick. You know I’m on your side. I have stuck with you this far, and I’m not bailing. I just don’t like you using this chick to get back at her parents. She’s innocent.”
Tossing my cigarette butt on the ground, I stub it out with the toe of my sneaker. “But is she?” I arch a brow in his directionas I run a hand over my cropped dark hair. “She’s grown up surrounded by wealth. Living in her posh Tribeca penthouse. Vacationing in exotic locations. Wanting for nothing because of that asshole she calls Dad. She’s got to know he’s a shady fucker who hides his criminal enterprises behind a few legit businesses and fake charitable endeavors.” I swing my gaze around the imposing university campus. “If she’s here, she’s smart enough to know he didn’t generate that kind of wealth from a few tech shops and private group homes for troubled teens.”
“That doesn’t make this right,” he grumbles, removing a bottle of water from his backpack.
“What happened to my brother wasn’t right! You know what happened to Roman in that place,” I growl, my mood instantly darkening. Everett is the only person I told what went down, and I expect more understanding. “You know how Winston Copeland laughed in my face when I told him what that bitch had done.” Pushing off the stone pillar I’m leaning on, I swipe my backpack off the ground, my skin prickling with unspent rage. “He didn’t give a shit about right and wrong, and I’m sure as fuck not going to lose sleep when I exact payment from his daughter and leave her ruined.” I grind my teeth as I stare at him. “No one is forcing you to be here. If you’ve suddenly developed a conscience, feel free to leave.”
I push past my buddy—the only guy who still talks to me at school—bristling with anger and pent-up frustration. Everett is hardly the poster child for morality, and he’s starting to get on my last nerve.
Climbing the steps two at a time, I head toward the entrance doors, not waiting to see if he follows. I push through the doors, walking in the direction of the registration office. Everett narrows the distance between us with his long-legged stride, falling into silent step beside me as I walk along the eerily quiet hallway.
This year is the first year West Lorian University has opened its doors to advanced high-school students who wish to take prerequisite college courses before starting senior year. It’s a joint initiative with West Lorian High and a few other private high schools across NYC, including my school.
When I hacked into Emery Copeland’s tablet and discovered she was signed up for the program, I wasted no time in applying. I knew I’d get in because I’m a straight-A student with an above-average IQ. Throw in the orphan card, and it’s a done deal.
Our parents were strict about studying, and all three of us were encouraged to achieve our full potential through extracurricular classes and regular supervised study sessions. I was luckier than Roman or Penelope because things seem to come easily to me, and I never forget something once I have learned it.
After we register and officially pick up our schedules, we make our way to the auditorium for our first class. I already downloaded our schedules last week, ensuring we were attending all the same classes as Copeland’s precious princess.
“She’s over there,” Everett mutters under his breath, subtly jerking his head to the right as we step foot in the auditorium.
I take a moment to study her as I walk along the row directly behind my prey. Emery’s dark-red hair hangs in soft waves down her back, bouncing gently as she turns her head to speak to the brunette in the seat beside her. Flawless pale skin peeks out from behind her hair, and her startling green eyes move in my direction as we make our approach.
I stare at her, fixing her with a challenging look that dares her to keep looking at me. Two pink spots appear on her cheeks before she twists her head around, refocusing on the conversation with her friend.
I drop into the seat directly behind her, purposely breathing heavily on her hair as I deposit my bag on the ground betweenmy feet. She stiffens, ever so imperceptibly, and I smirk as I hold my head still for a few beats, letting her feel the intensity of my attention.
Everett claims the seat beside me, pulling shit from his bag.
The brunette whips her head around, narrowing her eyes at me. “Do you mind?” She gestures toward Emery.
“Fuck off.” I drill her with a look that usually sends people scurrying for the hills. But this chick has balls. She flips me the bird, and I chuckle as I settle back in my seat, deliberately pushing my feet against the back of Emery’s chair.
“Asshole,” the brunette murmurs, turning around as the professor steps onto the podium and calls for quiet.
The rest of the morning follows the same pattern. Us trailing Emery and her pint-sized friend from lecture hall to lecture hall, sitting behind them in every class. She doesn’t turn around, but from her rigid stance, I know she’s aware of me. Most likely, she’s trying to figure me out.
I know I’m making her nervous, so I’ll consider that a win.
During lunch, I choose the table directly in front of them, situating myself so I’m staring her in the face.
“I thought the plan was to fuck her,” Everett says before biting into his burger.
