Page 31 of Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys 1)
Vic snorts, but several of the ladies smile and nod, like this is actually some sort of believable scenario for them. Actually, I stole it from some crappy rom-com. Since when I have ever sat in first class? Never. Been to Paris? Not once. Been on a plane? Yeah, I never have been.
“That is adorable,” one of the women says, putting her hand on Ophelia’s. “Your son and his fiancée are so sweet; you must be so happy for them.”
“Thrilled,” she says, taking a sip of her wine, perfectly shaped brows raised.
An hour and a half later, and I’ve survived the luncheon on BS and recycled romantic comedy trope nonsense.
“This is pure hell,” I say, bumming a cigarette off Vic out back of the country club. We’re smoking right next to a No Smoking On Premises sign which brings me a small, fucked-up piece of joy. I’m going to make sure to grind my butt out on the head of the founder’s statue staring at me from a cluster of shade-loving begonias. “No wonder you figured this a fair price for vengeance. No sane girl would put herself through this.”
Victor laughs, that subdued, dark little chuckle that makes my chest feel tight. It’s hard to hate someone as much as I hate him, especially when my body’s constantly lusting after his.
“Are you kidding me? I could get any girl at Prescott High to do this for me. And I’d only have to pay them in dick.”
I wrinkle my nose and glance his way, watching him inhale, little tendrils of smoke escaping his nostrils. He looks like a different person in that outfit, all cleaned-up like one of the yuppie assholes out on the green.
“You’re delusional,” I murmur, turning away before he catches me studying him. “Everyone in that school hates you and your crew, and you know it.”
“They’re afraid of me, and that’s a whole different sort of animal.” Vic flicks his cigarette butt into the fountain, proving he has about as much respect for these rich assholes as I do. “You should know: you’re afraid of me, too.”
“Like hell I am,” I snort, shaking my head and laughing. “I used to be, sure. Not anymore. I’ve been beaten into a whole different shape.” I look up at him and my smile fades away to nothing. “I’m not afraid of anything anymore.”
“Can you get your mom to sign off on our marriage?” he asks suddenly, surprising me, his face this dark, impossible mask. “You’re still seventeen, right? We’ll need her permission.”
The color drains from my face at the thought of asking her anything; Vic notices and smirks at me.
“Maybe you’re not afraid of me, but you’re still afraid of her. Don’t worry: we’ll get her to sign off.” He pushes off the wall, pulls a small bottle of body spray from his pocket, and spritzes both of us. “Let’s go say bye to Ophelia.”
My mouth tightens, but I follow after him.
I have to, to pay my end of the bargain.
I’ll have to do a lot of other things, too. I just haven’t been asked to do any of them yet.
Yet.There seems to be this unspoken thing about me spending the night at Aaron’s again. We don’t talk much—or at all on Sunday since I just chill in his room and play with my phone—but I know I can’t stay here forever. For now, Heather’s still staying with a friend. Eventually, I’ll have to go home when she does.
Home.
Like that place has ever felt like home …
On Monday, Aaron wakes me up for school. I help him get the girls together, and he drives us all in the van, dropping them off first, then taking us to Prescott. The sign out front has seen better days. Prescott Senior High, Home of the Loggers has been adjusted to have an extra ‘F’ in front of the school mascot, announcing us as the floggers. Someone’s even drawn Ms. Keating with a whip in her hand. Nice touch.
Aaron parks across the street, and we head up the front walk together, enduring the metal detectors, K9 units, and pat downs before we’re released into what’s essentially a prison. Bars on the windows? Check. A rigid, airtight schedule? Check. Fellow inmates with grudges and chips on their shoulders? Check, check.
I can see Kali watching me while she pretends to be engrossed in her phone. When she catches me looking, our eyes meet, and she turns away, scurrying down the hall like a rat.
“It’s nice to see that your unscrupulous morals allow you to go after a mark that used to be a client,” I say when I run into Victor, forcing a tight smile to my lips, my hands curling into fists by my sides. As far as I can tell, Kali sent Havoc after me over a boy, a pageant, and a jealousy so bright it burns.
