Connor:
You coming to dinner?
Me:
Give me a few and I’ll meet you there.
Connor:
I’ll save you a seat.
Still smiling, I sit up, and I’m tucking my phone into my backpack’s front pocket when the door slams open, revealing Abigail.
Gee, great. More drama.
“Knock much?” I arch a brow.
Abigail storms into the room, standing above me with her hands on her hips. “Priya told me you two had quite the heart-to-heart.”
“We painted each other’s nails and had a pillow fight, too. So sorry you missed it.” I lay the sarcasm on extra thick.
Abigail rolls her eyes, unbothered. “I just thought I’d stop by to make sure you understand that Priya is taking the topspot in our class this year. It belongs to her and no one else. Got it?”
My gaze drops to Abigail’s glossy, dark pink mouth. That lipstick shade is awfully familiar. Pretty sure the last time I saw it, it was smeared all over my mirror.
“It’s so cute, how you’re Priya’s guard dog. We both know you can bark, but do you bite? Or are you only tough enough to leave lipstick on mirrors and deface the occasional photo?” I stand up, prepared for a fight.
The knowing smirk on Abigail’s face makes me want to smack her. She doesn’t even care that I called her out. She’s basically admitting what she did without saying a word. I decide to push her a little further.
I step closer, practically thrusting my face in hers. “I guess the real question is, does the chain Priya keeps you on leave enough slack for you to, say, push someone off a cliff?”
Abigail narrows her eyes, her entire expression going dark. “You better watch your fucking mouth,Belinda. That’s a serious accusation.”
“Is it?” I blink my eyelashes at her with exaggerated slowness, like I’m a dimwit.
Abigail shakes her head once, her lips firm. “If I have to, I’ll be the biggest bitch the world has ever seen to keep Priya at Wickham. That’s what you do when you love someone.”
Her confession is a surprise, I’ll give her that. But it’s not going to be enough to throw me off her scent.
“But I’m definitely not a murderer.” Abigail shifts close enough that I can feel her breath when she speaks. “Stay in your lane, Nancy Drew. And keep that old A-minus average exactly where it is, or we’re going to have a problem.”
With that, she turns her back on me and heads for the door, but right before she gets there, I remember we have unfinished business.
“Abigail?”
