Page 83 of Chaos

Kill me. Literally fucking kill me.

Lifting my chin from where it’s tucked against my chest, I don’t know why I’m surprised. It was inevitable that I would bump into a familiar face—it’s weird, really, that it took so long.

But it’s fucking diabolical thatthisis the face the universe decides to throw at me.

“Jimmy Thornton,” I drawl, no vitriol to my words besides the naturally occurring hatred in my heart. “Why the fuck are you talking to me?”

My old classmate blinks. Gawks like he cannot fathom why I haven’t greeted him with squeals and a fucking kiss. As if he doesn’t remember that he used to coughslutbeneath his breath whenever he passed me in the halls of Haven Ridge High—like he doesn’t think I’ll remember.

I do. Vividly. Just like I remember how the girl who appears behind him, curling a possessive hand over his shoulder, scratched that same word onto my locker on our first day of senior year.

The perpetrator of that lovely little prank scans me from head-to-toe.

“Oh, c’mon,” Lissa Ford croons. “We’re all grown, Lot. Let bygones be bygones.”

No. I don’t think I will do that. Unless it means I’ll saybyeand they’ll getgone. Which I figure it doesn’t, so I make to get myself gone, only for my old track rival to step in my way. “I heard rumor you were back.”

I stiffen, if only because I know exactly what little birdie has been tweeting about my return. Although, the Webers are more like the wriggling worms that the birdie has for breakfast. “Do you want an autograph or something, or can I go?”

Lisa… laughs. I guess. Some nasty, derisive iteration of the noise. “You really haven’t changed a bit, have you?”

Fuck me, why does everyone keep saying that?

“Well.” Lissa purses her lips like she’s rethinking her words, something devious glinting in her eyes as they briefly shift to something behind me. “I guess you must’ve, a little. I don’t remember you being very…socialin high school.”

Without turning around, I know who suddenly comes up behind me. The back of my neck itches with familiarawareness about a second before a palm cups it, before an uncharacteristically hard voice drones, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

It means I was a loser loner who had no friends, Finn. Catch the context clues.

Reminding me of his scrawny existence, Lissa exchanges a glance with Jimmy—with her boyfriend? Is that why she’s here, picking at me, mocking me? Is she marking her territory?Sounds fucking familiar.“I’m just joking around.”

“I didn’t ask if you were kidding, I asked what you meant.”

“Just that Lottie wasn’t exactly popular in high school. Not in a good way, at least.”

That, I wince at. Because while my friend-less-ness was mostly self-imposed, myreputationwas not. I did nothing to deserve being called a whore other than sleep with the wrong guy. Withoneguy. Not the hordes that Lissa and her fucking cronies claimed, if only for the simple reason that they could.

Because that wrong guy I slept with was the one Lissa considered hers.

Despite not being very amused, I snort. “Bygones, huh, Lissa?”

Her lips thin as she rolls them together. She smacks her gloss—and fuck her even more, actually, for wearing such a pretty, mauve color and being such a raging bitch that I can’t even ask what brand it is—before opening her mouth, but whatever is poised to come out, doesn’t.

Finn might cut her off, but it’s me he asks, “You done with this?”

I flash my teeth in what I guess you could maybe call a smile. “I was done about five sentences ago.”

He grunts something that sounds a lot likethank fuck, and then we’re gone. He’s dragging me away by the scruff of myfucking neck, and he’s grunting again when I knock his grip away.

“What was that about?” he asks once we’re out of earshot, a finger hooking through one of my belt loops like he thinks I might flee.

Defensiveness, my old, insistent friend, pools at the base of my spine. “You mean what did I do to her?”

“No, Lottie. I mean exactly what I asked.”

I huff. I don’t want to tell him. I don’t want him to know that actually, I did do something—I slept with her boyfriend. Granted, I didn’t know Carl was her boyfriend, just like she didn’t know that he didn’t consider himself her boyfriend all that much. And even though I know I didn’t do anything wrong, it doesn’t reallysoundlike I didn’t do anything wrong. Especially the way Lissa has spun it over the years, what with all her rage being focused on me rather than the asshole who messed her around. “Your knight in shining armor routine is wasted on me, Finn. I don’t have any honor to defend.”

“You can’t seriously think I would just let them talk to you like that.”

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