Page 88 of Lessons in Cruelty

It’s her new BFF that hands me the envelope though, and for a split second I wonder if Haven told Parker about us. Like what happened at the diner. Or under the table in the library. But when I look at Melissa, she just watches me, expressionless. But that’s kind of her face’s default setting, so who knows?

Haven makes a point of looking down at her notes, seemingly oblivious to my presence.

Pretend all you want, Miss H. This monster doesn’t disappear when you put a blanket over your head.

I snatch the envelope out of Melissa’s hand and go to set them all down on the table.

Fuck, when is Rooke getting here?

I glance at the class notes again. Bite the inside of my cheek. There’s no way I’m going to lecture these assholes. I scan his notes until I get to one of the last bullet points.

Threaten to read the contents of their envelopes.

Fuck, this guy should be committed.

That’s Milgram-levels of cruelty. Was he getting a hard on picturing how these idiots would start squirming?

I look up at the class.

“Did you guys enjoy the assignment?”

There’s some scattered laughter, a groaned, “No!” paired with a more enthusiastic, “Yes!” on the other side of the room.

The chick who didn’t want to put her name on the envelope calls out, “That assignment was degrading and humiliating, bordering on an attack on human rights.”

“Human rights?” I laugh. “Yeah, fuck, I’m not touching that.” I lift my hands, getting a round of laughs from the students. “You realize the professor’s gonna rip you a new one, right?”

She crosses her arms over her chest, sulky but determined.

Fucking good for her.

I’m low key surprised that more students didn’t refuse to participate. That last bit with the secret? God, what I wouldn’t take to look inside some of those.

Threaten to read the contents of their envelopes.

“You guys have at least gotten the gist of Zimbardo’s experiment by now, right? How normal people can become sadistic assholes when they’re given some authority. Even when everyone involved knows it’s bullshit?”

Some murmurs, but most of the class is on their phone, or talking with the person next to them.

“Look, I’m in charge until the professor gets here.” I pick up the stack of envelopes and slap it against my palm. “I could start the lecture. But who knows when I’ll have this much power again?”

A few more students perk up at this, some frowning, others smiling like they know what’s coming.

Haven is staring at me like she’s just spent three years building a house of cards, and I’m holding a flamethrower.

“So how about we play a few rounds of Survivor?”

There’s absolute silence as I shuffle the envelopes. I take out three and put them face down on the desk.

“I’ll open an envelope or two, and you guys get to vote which secret is the lamest.”

Students glance at each other like they’re looking for permission to be assholes.

Guess they need a little incentive.

“I’ll keep it anonymous. But if you don’t vote, it’ll be your envelope next, and everyone’s gonna know your name.”

“That stuff’s private!” the girl with the death wish yells.