“I’ll go when I feel like it.” He folds his arms over his chest, his eyes going back to Charlotte. “What do you think? Will I see you there?”
“I don’t know,” she says, sounding breathless. “I have to go.” She gets in her Mercedes and jerks the car in reverse before taking off.
“What the hell was that about?” I ask Briggs.
“What? I can’t invite her to a party?” he says with a smirk.
“Asshole,” I mutter, going around him, heading to my truck.
He catches up to me, coming in front of me and grabbing my shoulders, his face back to the cold, threatening look I’m used towith him. “You want to mess with me? I won’t just come after you. I’ll come after your friends. Or friend. I forgot, you only have one.”
“Leave her alone,” I say through gritted teeth.
“I will if you cooperate. If you don’t, she’s fair game.”
“You said you’d give me a week. Friday is still part of this week.”
“Friday is just a taste of what’s to come. Nothing will happen to her on Friday. It’s just a way for me to gain her trust so that next time—”
“Just stop!” I shove his hands off me. “You arenothurting her. In any way. You hear me? I will not let you involve her in this.”
He leans down to my face. “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want. And your little friend will go along with it because she wants me, like every other girl. She’ll think she’s living out her fantasy. Until it ends.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
He backs away, smiling, then turns and walks off.
“For the record, she doesn’t want you, asshole! She hates you!”
He ignores me and keeps walking.
I’ve always hated Briggs, but now I hate him even more. He can come after me, but he can’t come after my friends.
I didn’t think he’d take it this far. He’s playing dirty, turning this into a dark and twisted obsession to win. And the game hasn’t even started yet.
Chapter 8
Ella
It’s Tuesday, which means I have less than a week left before Briggs starts his all-out war against me. His warning yesterday in the parking lot almost had me thinking I should just let him have what he wants. It’s bad enough he’s going after me, but going after my friend? I can’t let that happen. Charlotte can’t be involved in this. It’s not right.
But despite his threats, I can’t make myself give in to his demands. I have every right to be valedictorian. I’ve earned it. While everyone else was out partying and having fun, I was home studying. That can’t all be for nothing. I deserve this. Just because Briggs is used to getting what he wants doesn’t mean he gets to take this from me. But how do I get him to back off?
“That’s it for today,” Ms. Tate says as she finishes her lecture. “I’m going to come around now and collect your assignments.”
She starts in my row, and I look through my backpack for the paper I wrote. I did it last weekend and printed it out, knowing Ms. Tate is the only teacher who makes us print stuff out and bring it to class rather than submit it online.
“Ella?” She stands by my desk, holding her hand out. “Your assignment?”
“Sorry, I need a minute to find it.”
She continues to the next row while I search for the ten-page paper that I know I printed out on Sunday. I put it in a yellow folder, the one I use for AP French. There’s no yellow folder in my bag. What the hell? Where did it go?
I take out everything in my backpack, setting it on my desk, pens falling out everywhere. I hear Aubrey laughing from two rows behind me. I glance back and see her smirking at me as she hands Ms. Tate her assignment.
Why is she laughing? Did she do something? Did she take my assignment? How would that even be possible? The only time I’ve been around her all day is now, in this class, and she’s nowhere near me. There’s no way she could’ve taken my assignment.
Everything’s out of my backpack, piled up on my desk, but my assignment isn’t there. I even checked my other folders, just in case I put it in the wrong one, but it’s not there. It’s gone.
