Page 3 of Revenge At Raleigh High
My heart thrashes, trying not to seize.
Sam hooks a finger under my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. He looks down on me like I’m the most repellant thing he’s ever had the misfortune of seeing with his own two eyes. “I hear the morning after pill’s pretty effective. Dillinger’s is open twenty-four hours now, too. Seems like your best bet would be to make a stop there before you head home. Be silly to take any chances. What d’you think, babe?”
Babe.
Babe.
Babe.
Babe.
I can’t stop the word from repeating over and over in my head.
Babe.
Babe.
Babe.
I clap my hands over my ears, screwing my eyes shut, refusing to breathe. If I stop breathing, I might pass out. I might fucking die. At least if I’m dead, this madness will finally stop.
Sam’s hand drops to his side. “Are you listening?”
I’m not. I can’t. I’m not. I can’t. I’m not. I can’t.
“Crazy fucking bitch.” His jabs a finger into my chest, sneering viciously, his false indifference vanishing in a puff of smoke. “I’d be really careful how I handled what comes next if I were you. You’re gonna be faced with a choice. I’m gonna give you a piece of advice, Parisi. Right now, you’re standing at a crossroads. To your left lies graduation. The end of school. Summer with your friends. You finish your time at Raleigh with a smile on your face and we all part as friends. The other direction?” He shakes his head, disappointment forming on his face. “To your right leads copious amounts of pain and suffering. Humiliation. Embarrassment. You won’t make it to graduation if you head in that direction. Jake’ll make sure of it. You shouldn’t have defied him like that upstairs. You really got under his skin. You fucked up his head real bad.”
I’m not in my right mind. The frigid, cold water from the shower must have addled my brain. If I was thinking straight, I’d make sure to stop the slightly deranged bark of laughter from exploding out of my mouth.
Sam’s eyes harden like flint. He tuts under his breath, taking a step back toward the house. “All right, babe. It’s your fucking funeral. Remember that.”
He goes inside.
I press my forehead against the glass of the window, finally dragging a shaken, terrified breath down into my burning lungs. When I look up, Sam’s in front of my friends again, hands in his pockets. He’s talking to Kacey, his face very calm, his shoulders relaxed. Kacey, on the other hand? Kacey’s becoming visibly more and more agitated. She turns red, her icy-blue eyes filling with the kind of cold, dead fury that generally means someone, somewhere is about to be publicly eviscerated. A minute passes. Two. Sam doesn’t stop talking the entire time, words spilling out of his mouth like a goddamn oil slick, and Kacey does nothing but stand there and listen. At one point, Halliday reacts to something he says, covering her mouth with both hands. Kacey’s posture stiffens, so much tension pouring off her that it looks like she’s about to go nuclear. Halliday tries to say something to her, but she spins on her and snaps, snarling at her through her bared teeth.
Sam finally stops talking. He shrugs, grins at the girls, and then pivots on the balls of his heels and walks away, rejoining the chaos of the party that’s still surging all around them. Kacey spears Halliday through with a look that makes my blood run cold.
Still, I am a fool, though. Still, I don’t see it coming.
When Kacey and Halliday emerge through the front door of the Wickman house, I expect my best friend to take me in her arms and hold me. I expect her to stroke my hair and tell me everything is going to be all right. I expect her to turn that legendary rage of hers into sharp cutting words, hone them into lethal weapons, and to send them flying at the boys who hurt me.
I have never been so wrong in all my life.
When Kacey comes to a halt before me, she doesn’t meet my eyes. She tosses something at my feet, sighing tiredly. It’s my purse. “What did I tell you?” she spits.
“Wh—what?”
“What did I tell you before, in the bathroom with Zen? I said he wasn’t for you, didn’t I? I told you not to get involved with Jake. Now look at the steaming pile of shit you’ve landed yourself in. I’m sick of your crap, Silver. Honestly, I am.”
Halliday dips her head, crying quietly. She looks from me to Kacey and then back at me, as if what she’s seeing take place cannot be stopped, but she can’t look away.
Kacey finally looks up. She’s always been hard. Always had trouble dealing with her feelings. Anger has always been the only emotion she’s ever felt safe unleashing on the world, but even her anger is absent now as she looks me up and down. “You made your bed, Silver. I’m afraid you’re gonna have to lie in it. Go home. I don’t even want to look at you, and neither do the other girls. The Sirens can’t be seen to be hanging around with trash like you.”
It happens just like that. Quick, like tearing off a Band-Aid. Kacey leaves and she doesn’t look back. She does pause on in the doorway of the house, the light throwing her into shadow as she waits with one hand resting against the doorjamb.
“Halliday! Get inside this house now, or you’ll find yourself stuck out there with her forever.”
She doesn’t mean stuck outside the house. She means stuck on the outside, shut out from the light and warmth of her good graces, forever shivering in the loneliness of the long shadow she casts. Halliday gives me one last, torn look, before she leaves and follows Kacey inside.
