Page 38 of The Pawn

While no one's looking, I shove my phone and a small black bag into my locker, then trail towards the door slowly. At the last minute, I grab Holly's shoulder and tell her, "I forgot something back in my locker—I'll meet you out there."

"You sure? The quarry is big. You might not be able to find us if you take too long."

"We have to warm up indoors anyway," I point out. "I won't be long. Just a minute or two."

"Got it. See you soon, Cooke."

It's hard not to wince at the sound of my false name in her mouth. Though it proves that Cole didn't tell her the truth about me, just like he said—or at least, if he told her, she's as good at lying as he is. Part of me twinges with guilt. Holly has been nothing but nice to me, bizarrely enough, despite the boy she's somehow in love with. If it weren't for her, I have the feeling he would be acting far, far worse.

I tell myself it's a harmless white lie. I haven't hurt her by giving a false last name, after all. But as I grab my stuff out of my locker, dawdling as long as possible, I know that's only half the truth.

Today, I'm going to cross a line.

Once I do, people like Holly Schneider and Sasha Wong will never want to associate with me again. It won't just be the Elites or mean girls like Georgia Johnson who will have reasons to hate me—it'll be all the others too, every single one of them, as soon as they find out what I've done.

But I'm not here for them. I'm here to get vengeance for the dead. The fire that burns inside me demands retribution, and if this soothes it in any way, then it's exactly what I've got to do.

The hallway between the girls' and boy's locker room is empty as I sneak out, the black bag in one hand, its contents a strange and heavy weight. I take a moment outside the boys' locker room just to make sure it's empty, then quickly sneak inside.

It's easy enough to find the right locker: 425. Cole has left the key in the lock, like all the other boys; we're the only ones here today, after all. Heart beating crazy fast, I glance over my shoulder, open the locker door, and pull out the contents of the bag. The acrylic cube inside is clear and teeming with revenge.

Carefully, but as quickly as possible, I dump what's inside the acrylic cube into the locker and shut the door. Then I hover in front of it, waiting for a moment to make sure it worked—it has. They won't be escaping.

As soon as he's done rock climbing, Cole Masterson is in for the surprise of his life.

I return the empty bag and cube to the backpack in my locker, then rush out of the locker room and around the corner, towards the indoor climbing wall.

My heart sinks when I see who's waiting for me.

"So, bitch." Georgia narrows her eyes in my direction. "What were you up to in there?"

"Nothing. I just left my phone behind."

"Stop lying." She prowls towards me, lips twisted in a sneer. "Isawyou go into the boys' locker room. What were you up to, perv? Stealing Tanner's underwear? Sniffing his jock strap?"

"Boys don't wear jock straps to rock climb," I point out. "Get out of the way. I'm running late, and so are you."

I try to step around her, but she moves to the side to keep blocking my path. "He'll never want you, gutter trash."

"Yeah, I got that," I snap back, mentally adding on to the list of things I'm going to buy with her credit card. "Now get out of my way."

We lock eyes. Something in me burns to life, hungry and angry. I want to reach up, twist my fingers in her hair, and bash her head against the wall until she sees red.

I can't.

I won't.

I can't. I won't.

"Whatever, freak." Georgia moves aside, but not before knocking into my shoulder hard enough to bruise. "Go sniff someone else's boyfriend's underwear. Tanner ismine."

He won't be for long if I have anything to say about it. But I stuff my anger down, force myself to be the snake that hides itself beneath long stalks of grass, that strikes without being seen. What girls like Georgia want more than anything is for me to turn into what they think I am: savage, wild, uncouth and feral. If I punch her in the face, it'll only feel good for a moment. Then it'll be the worst mistake of my life.

I take one step down the hallway. Two, three. Eventually I'm at the end, the wide open indoor rock climbing space in front of me, colored handholds and footholds running up and down the walls, the floors padded with vinyl-covered mats. Holly waves to me; she's climbing the walls, Cole at the ground with rope around his waist, a pulley system helping him take her weight and keeping her from falling. He turns at her wave, narrows his eyes in my direction and smirks.

There's nothing he can do here right in front of her, I remind myself.

He's in for a hell of a surprise when he opens up his locker at the end of the day.

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