“Marnye,” she blurts, lifting her gaze up to my face. “You know I tried to message you over the summer, right?” I nod, and hold back a sniffle. I’m not going to cry, and I’m not going to be wishy-washy. I’m going to kick some Blueblood ass is what I’m going to do. Just … not Miranda’s. “But I understood when you didn’t reply. We both needed time, and Creed …” She trails off as my lips curl into a slight sneer. “What my brother did to you was unforgivable. I’ve barely spoken to him since. If it gives you any peace of mind, it’s killing him inside.” She smiles at me, but there’s not a lot of joy in it; she doesn’t like hurting her twin.
But that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
“I’m going to make him suffer,” I tell her, and she bites her lip for a moment before nodding.
“Yeah, I figured as much.” Her smile gets a little bigger, a little wider. “I wouldn’t expect anything less out of you. And besides,” she pauses to reach into her shirt, pulling out the necklace that Tristan gave me, “if you did anything less, they would crucify you. Fight back, Marnye, and show them what I already know: you deserve to be here even more than they do.”
She takes my hand and drops the necklace into my palm.
“What is this?” I choke out, and Miranda’s smile gets even bigger.
“Tristan stashed this in his pocket, and then he and Harper and a full-on screaming match in the hall about it. Everyone saw, and I mean everyone.” She waves her hand dismissively. “Anyway, when he wasn’t paying attention, Harper took it. She threw it in the trash, and I dug it out. Keep it. You might find a use for it later.” Miranda leans in and gives me a kiss on the cheek before heading for the door. My hand curls around the necklace and squeezes it tight. “Meet me in the morning for breakfast, and watch your back. They’re gunning for you, Marnye, and it’s going to so much worse than last year.”The most important items I packed in my duffel bag were cameras that I ordered online. They connect wirelessly to my phone, so I can watch the footage at any time. As I position them around my room, I feel a smirk working its way over my face. The best way to bring the Bluebloods down is to let them drown themselves. If they break into my room again, I’ll have proof.
As soon as that’s done, I get dressed in the crisp perfection of my academy uniform, put on some makeup, and fix my hair as best as I can. It doesn’t look as nice as it did at the salon, but it’s still edgy and pretty, just long to curl around my ears. Next, I collect my schedule, and head into the hall. I bump face to chest into Zack Brooks.
“What are you doing here?” I groan as I rub at my nose, looking up at him with a scowl. “We’re not exactly friends.”
“Only because you don’t want to be,” he says, eyes, face, and voice dark and unreadable as always. My attention goes straight to his mouth, remembering that one, fierce make-out session we had during our brief dating session, and the magical way his tongue traced my lower lip.
Shivers take over me, but I’m not interested in Zack or Creed or Tristan or Zayd. Not anymore. Screw them all. Zack’s sins might be older than the other boys’ transgressions, but honestly, they’re almost worse. He made me want to take my life, him and Lizzie. I exhale. The only reason she’s not on my list is because she doesn’t go to this school, and I have no way of getting back at her. Zack is on it because I always have a connection to him because of his friendship with my dad. But now, at least, I’ve got him right here in front of me.
“Please move,” I say, tucking my bookbag against my chest. Zack stares at me for a moment, and I can’t help but notice that scent of his, sporty and cool and well-rounded. It gives me butterflies and that just pisses me off, too. “Move.”
“You don’t have to be on my side, but I’m on yours,” he says, but I’m done listening, so I brush past him and continue on down the hall and around the corner.
At breakfast, I pull out my journal and start writing furiously. There are so many things I need to say with messy cursive between those lines. The girls are in The Mess, but the boys are nowhere to be seen. They watch me as I eat, voices muted, hatred muffled.
With the extra security provided by the school, we're all going to have to be careful. It's why I'm not making my move until Friday, at the first party the year.
