“Masen,” someone calls.
I turn around to see Ms. Till, the Art teacher, carrying a pink slip. She hands it to him, speaking sweetly. “The principal would like to see you in the office. She wanted me to give you this in first period, but I just spotted you. You may as well go now.”
He takes the slip, and she pats him on the arm, walking away. Misha doesn’t read it, merely crumbles it in his fist and tosses it to the ground.
“What are you doing?” I ask. “If she can’t get a hold of your parents about the fights, she could bring in the police. Do you want to be found out?”
“I think we know how well I stay arrested,” he retorts, a cocky look on his face.
I roll my eyes. Yeah, okay, Rich Boy.
Pulling out my sketch book, I spot the cashmere scarf still hanging in the locker, and something hits me. He gave me a new scarf that first week. With perfume on it.
“Whose scarf did you try to give me that first week?”
His eyes drop, looking somber. “Annie’s.”
Annie’s? His sister?
And then my eyes go wide, and I turn to him, remembering what I’d said. “Oh, my God,” I burst out. “Annie. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”
I cringe at myself. I called her a skank, thinking she was some random girl who’d left her clothes behind in his truck. Shit.
“It’s okay.” He gives a half-smile. “I know you didn’t know.”
Ugh. I feel sick. I’m the worst.
“Well, you couldn’t give it to me anyway,” I scold. “She’d want it back.”
He grows quiet, avoiding my eyes.
I’d totally forgot his sister in all the drama. She’s a junior. Where was she last night? His dad must’ve come home during my nap, because Misha had to lock the door later on so he wouldn’t walk in on us, but Annie was never mentioned.
“Mr. Laurent.”
I turn my head to see Principal Burrowes coming down the hallway. Students move around her, everyone heading to their first class.
“In my office,” she orders. “Now.”
He turns away from her. “No, thanks.”
I stand frozen, watching. Just go, Misha. She’s not going to let him off the hook, and it’s only going to escalate.
“Now.”
“I’d rather not leave my friend alone when that piece of shit son of yours is roaming the halls,” he snarls. “Aren’t there laws about sexual predators not allowed to be within a certain number of feet from a school?”
Anger mars her face. “If I have to ask again, I’m calling the police.”
“Mi—Masen,” I corrected myself. “Just go.”
Burrowes puts her hand on his back and gestures for him to move.
But he whips away from her touch, scowling. “Fuck you.” He glares at her and then turns to me. “I’m leaving. I’m done here. I’ll be at the Cove after school.”
“What?” I exclaim.
He kisses me on the forehead and shoots Burrowes one last look before walking down the hall and back out the front door. I look around and see that other students are watching the exchange.
Burrowes meets my eyes briefly, but she doesn’t go after him. Turning around, she walks back down the hallway and disappears into the throng of bodies rushing to class.
Misha’s gone, and I’m a little pissed he’d rather leave school and me than deal with her. If he moves back to Thunder Bay, I’ll barely see him. At least until summer break.
What the hell’s going on with him?
And now that I finally slow down enough to think about it, he still hasn’t answered all of my questions.
Why is here? Why did Trey have his watch? And why is he staying at the Cove?
Everyone heads to their next class or into lunch, and I stand next to the water fountain, filling up my water bottle. I don’t feel like braving the cafeteria today, even though I’m a little hungry.
I know I should go in. I should sit at a table without the armor of my phone, homework, or a book, and just be there. If I hear whispers, then so be it. Let them talk.
But I don’t have it in me today for some reason. Maybe I just don’t want to see them. Maybe I don’t feel like getting covered in juice when I have to be here half the evening.
Maybe I’m allowing myself to just wimp out today.
The hallway slowly empties, shoes squeak across the floor, and lockers slam shut. The clatter of trays and the chatter of conversations filter out into the hall, and I hear a door open to my left. Looking up, I see Trey coming out of the bathroom. He holds a black cord with a pennant attached to it, and he walks over to the garbage can, pulling it apart and breaking it, and then dumping it in the can.
That’s Manny’s, I think. It’s one of the gothy necklaces he wears with some band’s name on it or something.
Trey raises his eyes and sees me, and I twist the cap back on my water bottle and walk his way, staying far to the right to go upstairs to the library.
But he rushes over and stops me, caging me in against the wall.
I exhale a hard sigh, turning angry.
“Where’s your bodyguard?” he asks, leaning his hands on the wall at my sides and blocking my escape. “Oh, that’s right. I heard he bailed school. Is he coming back?”
I push at his arm, trying to slip away, but he pushes me back, and I drop my bottle.
“Get the hell away from me,” I growl.
“It’s your own fault,” he replies. “You shouldn’t be caught alone with me. You’ve been asking for this.”
I dart my eyes to the sides, looking for an adult. But the hallway is nearly empty.
“You know what I think I’ll do?” He gives me a sick smile. “One of these nights, I’ll get you in the parking lot after you teach swim lessons, and I’ll spread those pretty legs and fuck you right there on the ground. Would you like that, baby?”
“I’m not scared of you.”
“But can you outrun me?” An amused look crosses his eyes. “Your boyfriend’s gone now. Every corner you turn, every night when you go to sleep, I’ll be there, and I’m going to find out exactly what I’ve been missing.”
He pushes off the wall, and I fist my fingers, realizing they’re chilled to the bone.
“You’re just like every other bitch in this school. They all wanted it.”
I take in deep breaths as I watch him walk down the hall to the lunchroom, trying to slow down my pulse.
I don’t care what he thinks he can get away with. I’ll talk to my mom tonight and take this to the principal. If she doesn’t handle him, then we’ll go over her head. He’s not threatening me again.
I move to make my way up the steps, but I see the men’s room door Trey came out of and remember the black necklace.
He must’ve taken it from Manny. If Manny’s in there, why hasn’t he come out yet?
I look around, not seeing anyone in the hall, and hurry to the bathroom door, slowly pushing it open.
“Manny?” I call out.
Why the hell am I doing this? He won’t want to see me. I’m sure he’s fine.
“Manny, it’s Ryen,” I say.
I don’t hear anything, and for a moment I think the bathroom is empty, but then I hear a shuffle and step inside.
Inching past the empty stalls, I walk along the sinks to the hidden space where the hand dryers sit.
Manny is standing with his back to me, his backpack dangling from his right hand, and his head bowed.
He’s shaking.
“Manny?”
He raises his head but doesn’t turn around. “Get out,” he demands. “Get the fuck away from me.”
“Manny, what happened?”
I step to the side, trying to see his face, but then I see something, and I stop. Blood trails off his ear and down his neck.
The hole on his lobe where a black gauge used to fit is now empty, and he’s bleeding, although it looks like it’s stopped.
Trey. Oh, my God, did he rip it out?
I take a step toward Manny, but he flinches, moving away.
Of course. Why would she help? He sees me just as dangerous as he sees Trey.
He thinks I’ll victimize him. And why not? I’ve done it in the past.
Grief fills my heart. How many times have I made him feel alone?
I stay rooted, not wanting to make him scared, but I want to help. “It won’t always be like this.”