“You mean he won’t be playing.”
“Well…” She blushes. “Yeah. He’ll probably be holding court with Eli. But hey, I’m sure we can get into the party after.”
I stare at her. “Riley Appleton, who are you? Football games and parties?”
Her blush deepens. “I’ve never had a friend to take… and I’ve always wanted to go. But then there’s the whole courage thing, so… please say you’ll go with me? Please, Margo? You can sleep over my house—”
I shake my head. “I can’t sleep over. Foster rule.”
She heaves a sigh, her face falling.
“But maybe…” I throw her a bone, even if anxiety is slowly winding around my lungs. “Maybe Lenora and Robert will let you stay with me?”
She claps. “Yay! You talk to them, and I’ll… I’ll find out who’s house the party is at. I’d bet it’s at Theo’s. Word is, he has a giant swimming pool with a slide, and sometimes they jump in from the second-floor balcony. Cool, right?”
“What could possibly go wrong?” I mutter.
We gather our wrappers and toss them in the trash, making our way to the front of the library. Amy has her head ducked down into a book, and she raises her hand as we pass.
“Why does she lock the door during lunch?” I ask in a low voice.
Riley giggles. “I wouldn’t want to be interrupted during my only break of the day. Would you?”
“Probably not…” My voice trails off, and I look down the hallway.
Students are waiting to get into the academic wing. Caleb catches my eye, immediately frowning. His beautiful lips tip down, down, down, until I fear they might slide right off his face. Liam and Theo are horsing around, throwing a football, and Eli is in the middle of them trying to intercept it.
“Why’s he staring at you?” Riley whispers.
“Great question.”
“Caleb!” Savannah brushes past me, headed straight for him. She walks right up to him, unafraid, and touches his chest.
He glances at her, but his gaze switches back to me. His blue eyes sear a hole in my soul.
He touches Savannah’s shoulder and moves past her, zeroing in on me.
“Oh dear.” Riley gulps. “Why—”
He stops right in front of me, impossibly tall.
“Where do you go?” he demands.
“What?”
“For lunch, Sheep. You vanish.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, do I report to you now?” I cross my arms over my chest.
His eyes flick down, lingering on the opening of my shirt for a heartbeat before his eyes trail upward. His movements are slow and steady, everything in complete control.
In opposition, my heart is racing.
“You should,” he says. “Haven’t you heard?”
“Heard what?” I raise my eyebrows.
“That I’m the fucking king of this castle, Sheep. And you’re just that… a sheep.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I snap.
He grins. “Ridiculous.”
“Yes.”
“You think I’m ridiculous.” His voice is getting louder.
Riley edges away from me.
“How?”
I stare at him.
He takes a step closer, invading my space. I try not to show any fear. It snatches at me the way wind grabs at leaves in a hurricane. Without remorse.
His face is carefully blank, but his eyes show the storm inside him. He’s angry, unimaginably pissed, and it’s directed at me. His fury, his fire… I’m on the receiving end of all of it.
It’s easy to see that now, when we’re inches apart.
He grabs my chin, twisting my head to the side. “Look at your friend,” he whispers in my ear. His voice is dangerous.
She’s at the edge of the crowd and won’t meet my eyes. She stares at his fingers gripping my face.
When did people start paying attention?
“She’s the smart one, Margo.”
I flinch. I’m the only one who can hear him this close, and I’m sure he likes it that way. I’m sure he likes to keep me off-balance.
“Let go of me.”
“You’re not having fun?” He drops his hand. He snags my wrist before I back away, reeling me in again. “Come now, Sheep. First one to flinch loses.”
“I’m not playing games with you.” I half expect him to kiss me again. I’m angry at myself for even contemplating such a thing.
“What makes you think we stopped?”
He releases me, walking back to his friends. They’d paused their game to watch us. Caleb gestures to Savannah. She steps forward, throwing her shoulders back and her breasts forward.
I shouldn’t be surprised when he kisses her again.
This time it’s savage, open-mouthed. She presses her whole body into him, her hands fisting his shirt at his waist. Their tongues fight, but it’s a one-sided battle. Caleb is in charge.
Something shifts inside me. Heat floods through me.
That should be you, a voice whispers.
I stare and stare at their connection, and it takes me a minute to realize his eyes are locked on me. Even as he bites and sucks Savannah’s lips.
I cringe at the realization.
He shudders, leaning into the kiss like she’s a balm against a fire. This show— His friends hoot and holler, my only indication that he’s pulled away. I’ve lost sight of them, my gaze unfocused, but I snap back to the present when the bell rings. The river of students flows around Caleb and Savannah. The former is watching me. The latter stares at him like he just impregnated her.
It hurts. I’m not quite sure why it hurts, because everything else he’s done to me has been so much worse.
Savannah follows his stare. She blinks at me, surprised and then… triumphant.
5
Caleb
I sulk through classes, unable to pay attention. Two girls try to pass me notes, which Theo intercepts and reads. He does me a solid by answering them in his own crude way, little stick-figure drawings of people fucking doggy-style or upside down. He flashes them at me before flicking them back.
The second-to-last bell rings, and I unfold myself from the desk. Theo follows me out the door and down the hallway, slapping my hand in goodbye. I’ve done my best to keep this part of my life low-key, and my friends know better than to ask questions about my last class of the day.
I walk into the room, and Mr. Jenkins grins at me. I slide onto a stool at the back of the classroom. I’ve been drawing since I was twelve, but only recently he encouraged me to try other mediums.
“You might be surprised,” he had said, winking.
Eh, how could I resist? Playing with paint for an hour soothes the wild anger inside me. It’s either that or beat people to a pulp on the regular. Since my aggression can usually be handled on the lacrosse field, we breathe a bit easier in the spring. The rest of the time? Well, everyone better fucking watch out.
The classroom slowly fills. Art students, I’ve learned, don’t give a shit about the popular kids. It’s a relief not to be considered a fucking royal here, in the brightly lit classroom, surrounded by other disinterested students. It’s like the art department has a mind of its own.
And then Margo Wolfe walks in.