Havoc (Mayhem #4)

“But listen,” Danica says, pulling her phone from her cup holder. I wish she would watch the road, but instead, she fiddles with the device in her hand. “I need to show you something, okay?”

I wait, and she eventually hands me the phone. And when I look at it, my eyes flash wide.

“Do you know who that is?” she asks as I stare at a picture of Leti kissing Kale on the mouth, and I nervously shake my head. “That’s your boyfriend’s profile picture.”

“Oh.”

“It was easy to look him up,” she says. “Leti isn’t exactly a popular name. Did you know he’s gay?”

My eyes are saucers when I stare over at her.

“You didn’t know your boyfriend was gay?” Danica asks, and I shake my head.

“See, that’s interesting,” she says with a smile.

“Interesting?” I croak.

“Why wouldn’t Kit tell you that your boyfriend is actually dating her brother? That’s who’s in the picture—Kale Larson. Why wouldn’t your BFFs Dee or Rowan tell you?”

“Kit’s brother?” I ask, trying to gauge how much Danica knows, and she bursts out laughing. She throws her head back, her laughter filling the car as it picks up speed.

“Hailey, you’re so fucking dumb. You can’t lie to me. Did you really think I didn’t know?”

Her laugh is like ice shooting through my veins, and I realize she’s playing with me.

“What do you want?” I ask, and my cousin smiles at me—a glass smile that threatens to shatter and slice me to pieces.

“I want to know where you’ve been.”

She’s holding all the cards, and I can’t tell if she’s bluffing. I search for a tell, a crack in her serpentine smile . . . “You know where I’ve been,” I venture, and Danica’s penny-brown eyes shine.

“Hm,” she hums. “Do I?”

I say nothing, refusing to be a pawn on her board.

“I think you’ve been at my boyfriend’s house,” she finally accuses, and I stare out my passenger-side window, knowing the game is finally over. This isn’t a conversation I wanted to have before Thanksgiving dinner—much less in a moving vehicle that Danica could drive off a bridge on a whim—but I’ve never been in control of this game. Danica has always been in the driver’s seat, and I resign myself to watching the trees we leave behind.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” she asks, but I continue resting my forehead against the glass, ignoring her. “Typical Hailey. Clam up like a coward the minute shit gets real.” I don’t take her bait, and she snaps, “Fucking say something, you stupid bitch!”

“My boyfriend’s house,” I correct her. I lift my head and level her with my stare, and Danica’s face reddens as she glares at me. I don’t back down, and she eventually looks back out at the road, her jaw ticking furiously.

“You think you’re pretty fucking special, don’t you?” she snarls as I look back out the window. “Congratulations, you got to be the pathetic side bitch waiting at home for a rock star who’s fucking everything with legs thousands of miles away.”

Her words don’t bother me. Maybe a couple days ago they would have, but now, they roll off me. Mike’s touch is still on my skin, like a coating that makes me unbreakable.

“You’re such an idiot, Hailey. We’re on a family share phone plan, for God’s sake. I have the password. I know you never stopped talking to him.” Her voice is pouty and mocking when she says, “Poor little Hailey. Sitting by the phone.”

She laughs loudly, and I sit quietly, wondering how slowly a car would need to be driving in order for a person to jump out of it safely.

“I even know he came home last night.” I glance at her, and she grins wickedly. “He’s famous, Hailey. Word spreads fast. But I decided not to break up your little party. Do you know why?”

Silence answers her, but she presses on.

“Because it doesn’t matter. None of this matters. What, do you think you’re going to grow old with him? Let me guess: white picket fence, golden retriever, two-point-five kids?” She snickers, and steel shutters close over my expression.

“I’m not playing this game anymore, Danica.”

“Oh, this isn’t a game, Hailey. This is war.”

“You’ve lost.”

“Have you forgotten who pays your bills?”

My heart drops, because a small part of me—a very small, very na?ve part—had hoped that when I told her about Mike after Thanksgiving dinner, she’d try to understand. She’d be hurt, but maybe the time we’d spent together recently would matter to her. Maybe she’d care about how I felt and what I had to say. Maybe she wouldn’t try to ruin me.

Instead, she’s known about us this whole time. She’s been planning this the whole time. And now, her gloves are off.

“What are your parents going to think when they hear you’ve decided to throw away your education for a boy you barely know?” Danica asks, and I imagine the disappointment on their faces. “What about your brother? What kind of example are you setting?

“I’ll make sure my dad never offers to pay for him to go to school, either,” Danica threatens. “No use throwing away money on the same redneck family twice.”

My blood boils, but I bite my tongue. If I respond to her now, there is going to be more than a war in this car—there is going to be a bloodbath. Literally—because there is a psychopath behind the wheel, and I don’t doubt that she’d kill us both just to spite me.

“Is Mike really worth losing everything for?” she asks, and the answer is yes. Yes, he’s worth it.

Of course I want my brother to go to school, but maybe education in this country will be different in six years. Maybe he’ll have more financial aid options. Maybe my parents will win the lottery. There are lots of maybes, and right now I need to worry about myself. For once, I need to put myself first. I can’t go back to being the girl who wears pajamas for three days straight, skips her classes, and cries herself to sleep at night. My heart isn’t whole without Mike, and I’m not breaking myself into pieces again.

I don’t tell Danica any of that, though. Instead, I stare out that passenger side window.

“What’s he going to think of you when he realizes you’re nothing but a gold digger, Hailey?” Danica presses. “Because that’s the plan, right? Live with him, let him pay all the bills. Maybe he’ll even pay for you to go to school.”

I would never let him do that. Never.

“You have nothing to offer him,” Danica says. “Nothing, Hailey. You’re not even pretty. It’s actually kind of embarrassing. It’s why I didn’t want you at my thirteenth birthday party, you know. My friends all made fun of you that night after you fell asleep in your ratty little sleeping bag, and I convinced them you were adopted so they wouldn’t think we were related.”