“Is that a yes?”
I walk back to him. “You’re that desperate to be valedictorian that you’d seriously give me twenty thousand dollars?”
“Will you do it or not?”
The answer is no. It’s a lot of money, but I don’t want money. I want to be valedictorian, and I’m not giving it up. But before I tell him that, I want more info.
I fold my arms over my chest. “Why is this so important to you?”
He looks to the side. “It just is, okay? Just fucking do it. It’s twenty thousand dollars.”
“Tell me why and I’ll consider it.”
His jaw tightens, and he blows out a breath. “I have a deal with my father.”
“What’s the deal?”
His eyes snap back to mine. “What the fuck difference does it make? It’s twenty thousand dollars and all you have to do is fail a few tests.”
“You don’t seem to get what I was saying earlier so let me explain it again. Unlike all your little minions that follow your rules and do whatever you say, I don’t take orders from you. Or bribes. I worked my ass off to get where I am and there’s no way in hell I’m giving it up.”
I turn and storm off.
“You’re gonna pay for this!” he calls after me. “I was going easy on you, Ella, but you just started a fucking war!”
I sprint across the field, up the hill to the parking lot, my heart pounding against my chest. What did he mean? What is he going to do?
I got here this morning thinking I’d coast through my last semester. I was determined not to let those assholes get to me. But now I’ve got a target on my back, and the guy I hate the most is holding the arrow.
Chapter 3
Briggs
“Where have you been?” my father demands when I walk in the house at ten. He’s still in his suit, but his tie is undone, hanging loose around his neck.
“I had practice,” I say, going past him.
He grabs my arm, yanking me back. “It’s ten o’clock. Where the fuck have you been?”
I look into his bloodshot eyes and smell the liquor on his breath. I hate when he’s drunk. I should’ve come in through the back door and snuck up to my room.
“I went to a coffee shop to study.”
“You’re lying,” he huffs. “You don’t even drink coffee.”
“They have other drinks. And I went with a friend. She wanted to go there and I didn’t want to argue about it.”
“What friend?” he asks, eyeing me with suspicion.
Shit. What do I say? He knows all my friends and he knows we don’t study together.
“She’s not really a friend. She’s my lab partner. We had to meet to go over an assignment.”
He stares at me, trying to tell if I’m lying. When he’s drunk, he always thinks I’m lying, even when I’m telling the truth.
“Who is she? What’s her name?”
“Ella,” I blurt out. It’s the first name that came to my mind. “Ella Quinn.”
