Matteo chuckles, but he stops when I don’t join him. I can hear the chatter in the background. He’s at his house, I can tell by the sounds of the ocean and the low tones of the shitty jazz rap he listens to when he’s plotting. I recognize all the voices as the henchmen he likes to surround himself with. A show of muscle to distract from the fact that Matteo is always the most dangerous man in the room. “What’s happened, my Wolf?”
I’m not his. I will never be his. I will fight tooth and nail, with everything I have, to not be his girl. It doesn’t matter, though. I can never tell him that; only bide my time until I can make an escape.
“I need your help. I’m willing to call in a favor.”
I can hear him moving around and closing a door. His voice is gentle, soothing, but I’m not falling for his games anymore. I’m not the scared little girl on that 911 call anymore. I just need him to fix this for me, I need him to have my back again. “No favor necessary. Tell me what you need.”
I twirl the phone’s cord around my finger and stare at it with glassy eyes. I need to hold onto this calm apathy as long as I possibly can. “I cannot be expelled. I’m going to destroy the kid who is doing this to me.”
“What is he doing? I can remove his piece from the board, if you want me to.” The calm offer to kill Joey for me is tempting. I’m definitely going to hell, because it takes me a full minute before I can reply.
“No. I’m going to destroy him at his own game. It’s not satisfying if I can’t do it myself.”
“That’s my girl. I’ll fix it for you. No favor required, but I will ask that you make it to the Club meeting in the summer.”
He’s so intent on getting me to the meeting, so I take note, filing it away for inspection at a later date when I can think clearly. I hear the principal coming back, so I agree and hang up. By the time I’ve straightened myself back into my chair, Mr. Trevelen strides back into his office. He sits down and begins to fidget with his shirt cuffs. He seems so nervous, and I feel bad for putting him in this situation. He believed in me enough to offer me the scholarship despite my emancipation. He’d had to fight with the school board for them to let me in. Now I’d just proved them all right. I’m just an angry girl from Mounts Bay who can’t fit in with the polished, upper-society teenagers. I’ve failed him.Don’t lose it now,I tell myself as I blink back the hot tears.
He finally clears his throat and opens his mouth. The phone rings. He frowns but holds up a finger to signal that I must wait. I nod, and he picks up the phone.
“Yvette, I’m sure I just asked you to hold calls.”
He pauses, and then he turns ghostly pale.
“Put him through.”
Sometimes I’m amazed at the reach Matteo has managed to achieve. I doubt he even knew Hannaford existed before I told him I was applying here. I also know the moment I got my scholarship, he would have started to reach out and find all the secrets he would need to use to manipulate these people. I wondered what Trevelen had done. I wonder what skeletons he was hiding that Matteo was threatening to shine a light on. From the look on his face, it wasn’t good. He looked like he wanted to vomit up his breakfast all over his lovely oak desk.
After a terse ‘of course,’ Mr. Trevelen hangs up and then he looks at me like he’s never seen me before. He looks at me like he’s let a monster into his school.
He has.
“I’m going to let you off with a warning this time, Miss Anderson, in light of… new information. Harlow will also be receiving a warning for her prank on you. I will not be so lenient on you if you choose to retaliate.” I stare him down. I’m sure he would turn a blind eye on anything I choose to do from here on out, now that he’s been threatened by the Jackal. I nod obediently and stand.
“I’m going to go get cleaned up. I’ll skip my next class, but I’ll be in my Health Ed.”
He nods and motions for me to leave as he drags a silk handkerchief over his sweaty forehead. I’m tempted to call Matteo back and ask what his buttons were, but sometimes, ignorance is bliss. I’d rather not find out the depths of evil this man has stooped to.
Yvette stares at me as I walk out free and clear. Classes have resumed, so I don’t see anyone all the way up to the girls’ dorms. I head into the bathroom to shower and clean Harlow’s blood off me. I take my bag into the stall with me, and I don’t let it out of my sight as I wash down. The shaking starts when I dry off. It takes twice as long as it should to redress, thanks to the trembling. I will finish today with my head held high, and then tomorrow I will let myself crumble.
* * *
As I walk into the classroom, all the eyes in the room turn towards me.
No one expected me to last the day, and yet here I was, taking my seat in Health Ed and ignoring the lot of them. I would not cry. I wouldn’t let them enjoy my tears. I'd survived my body being put through hell, but this sort of psychological torture grated against me. The Wolf has retreated, and I’m back to the little girl who cries and has crushes and wants to be liked. I kind of hate her. I can’t wait to graduate and leave all of this behind. So much for my new start.
I unpack my bag and set everything out onto my desk in clear lines as the whispers get louder. I can't have any sort of control anywhere else but in my pencils right now, so I measure everything out with my fingertips. When that doesn't calm my racing heart, I start to count backwards from a hundred in French, my go-to for panic reduction. The over-complicated number system keeps enough of my brain occupied that I can usually fight back the panic.
As the bell begins to toll, Avery, Ash, Harley, and Blaise walk in and sit in their usual spot behind me. It’s the only class we all share, and I’m pissed I have it today of all days. Thankfully, I don’t have to sit next to Harley. I hear Avery snort out a laugh that doesn’t suit her manicured appearance. She’s the epitome of grace and beauty. When you think about the beauty that wealth can create, she’s exactly what you would picture.
She murmurs, “Stupid Mountys,” and then opens her books. She seems pissed about all of this, but I'm sure it's because she wanted to be the one to break me.
“Your brother really fucked up everyone’s chances of winning the sweep.” Harley isn’t even trying to be discreet; I think he’s enjoying my downfall more than anyone else. The guy who bore witness to the retribution I wrought isn't in this room at all, so I'm left with the pompous asshole instead. There’s something in his eyes when he looks back at the sound of his voice, a recognition, that tells me he’s still trying to figure me out. Well, good luck.
“She still looks at Blaise like she would enjoy a ride on his dick. Looks like the money is yours, man,” Ash drawls, and I want to kick his perfect face in.
I turn to give him a scathing look, but they’re all enjoying every second of this torture. Harley is looking at me the same way he was in the chapel. I try not to shiver at the intensity. Blaise looks over at me, and for the first time he actuallylooks. I squirm in my seat as his eyes trail over my scuffed shoes, nails chewed to the quick, and the mess of black ringlets that is my hair. I know I look nothing like any of the girls at Hannaford, and for the first time since I started here, I feel pissed off about it. I’ve never felt so out of place as in this school with all of these obscenely privileged kids.
“I don’t fuck fans.”
