Page 64 of The Devils They Are

As people start filing out from the locker rooms, I spot Rylan casually heading toward the field from the main building. As if sensing my eyes on him, he finds me easily in the crowd, eyebrows furrowing for a brief moment before his face becomes expressionless. He walks into the locker room without a word, my gaze glued to the doorway, even long after he's vanished from sight.

"Earth to Bexley."

"Hm?" I turn back to Sophia.

She grimaces. "You're mad. It's cool. I understand why you would be."

Sighing, I shake my head. "I'm not mad at you," I confess—which is the truth. Am I hurt? Yes, definitely. I thought I had found a friend in the snake pit, and I'm disappointed that she has ties to the Willowbrook kings. But it also explains a lot. It's why she and Rylan have a weird dynamic. Sophia is his best friend's sister.

At least they aren't dating.

Unlike last time, the thought brings a new type of relief. And I hate myself for it.

I shouldn't be relieved that Sophia isn't dating Rylan. He's not mine.

Sure, words were said in the heat of the moment, but the only truth that was spoken that night was that we hated each other.

We dohateeach other. Right?

The coach calls for our attention before Rylan has emerged, and I welcome the distraction, making sure my back is facing the locker rooms. But even though I can't see him, I can feel his presence when he joins the group. My skin feels like it's being burned under watchful eyes, and for once, I want to run. Not away—but actual disgusting cardio.

When we're split into groups, Soph and I hang back, letting all the psychotic sprinters go first before starting our jog. But despite trying to keep pace, my body pushes ahead, making my running buddy curse under her breath.

"Jesus, Bex. Slow down," Sophia begs, panting as she tries to keep up.

But her words barely register in my mind. They sound faded, almost like they are being spoken under water.

Because all I can focus on is the wide back ahead, the dark brown hair ruffling in the breeze as light reflects off silver rings, beckoning me like death's version of the Bat Signal.

"I'm worried about you again," Arch says during fourth period.

"Why?" I ask, not glancing up from my textbook.

Despite meeting up at various times throughout the day, Arch apparently waited until we were in class together before questioning me.

We're at the back of the room, and even though I'm burning holes in the pages, I can't focus or absorb a single written word.

The Three Musketeers are in this class too, and every so often, they turn to look at me. But it's the difference in glances that puts me on high alert.

Hunter looks like he wants to bury me alive.

Tai throws bizarre stares that emanatepity.

And Rylan… He appears almost sad. With hints of… guilt?

If I didn't know any better, it's almost as if they have an idea of what has happened—well, Rylan and Tai anyway. But that's impossible. If my own people don't even know what happened on Thursday night, then they can't. I've made sure to cover my tracks.

"You've been sick a lot lately," Arch points out, ripping my attention away from Rylan as he glances over for the seventh time. Not that I'm counting.

"Probably just a little rundown," I offer pathetically.

He pauses, sparing a quick look at the teacher before leaning in. "Bex, I'm only going to say this once. You know I don't like to call you out on things, but something is going on. If there's something I can do to help—"

"It's fine," I snap, a little too harshly. His eyes widen, before narrowing in suspicion.

"Bex," he growls sternly. "That's bullshit and we both know it. Didtheydo something? Has someone hurt you?"

I laugh sarcastically under my breath. "No one has hurt me," I reply, monotonously.

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