We The Pretty Stars (Court High 4)

“What—”

Without a thought, the men did, grabbing and throwing Royal into a set of lockers. His face hit so hard his eyes shut.

“Royal!”

A hand came out, pulling me back. “Back off, Ms. Lindquist,” Principal Hastings said, his hand grappled tight on my arm. “Let the men do their job.”

“I didn’t fucking do anything!” Royal roared, the cops strong-arming him. At this point, Sheriff Ashford had given the phone to one of the officers and was cuffing Royal himself, using more force than he should have on a teenage boy.

He forced Royal’s face into the lockers. “You have the right to remain silent,” he started, basically spitting at Royal as he went into the Miranda rights. He quickly finished his spiel and pressed Royal’s face to the metal again. “And you did fucking do something. Otherwise, your name wouldn’t be all over my daughter’s suicide letter we found this morning.”

“What!” Pulled off the locker, Royal thrust a shoulder, bucking. “That’s bullshit.”

“Is it? I guess we’ll find out.” Sheriff Ashford threw Royal at the other cops. “Get him in the car.”

The men took Royal, but when I started to go again, Principal Hastings’s hand dug into my arm to the point where it pinched. I was jerked back, almost falling, and the only thing Royal seemed to be aware of then was me.

“Fucking let her go!” he growled, fighting the men hard, but he was in no state to help me when two armed officers were all over him. They tugged him away, Royal bucking the entire time, and I couldn’t go either since Principal Hastings had me. The headmaster got me to my feet but he wasn’t letting me go.

Sheriff Ashford raised his hat, his face beet red. “Your cooperation is appreciated.”

“Of course. Our halls are always open to the Maywood Heights Sheriff’s Office,” Principal Hastings said, holding me by both arms now. He had to…

I was screaming my fucking head off.

“Royal!”

“December!” Royal hollered, roaring again. “Let me go!”

They didn’t, didn’t let either one of us go, and the bell rang, letting class out. The halls immediately filled, and it was only after they clustered to the point of suffocation Principal Hastings released me.

“I hope you’re going to class, Ms. Lindquist,” he said from behind me, the asshole. I didn’t look back. I just ran after Royal. I could hear him screaming, calling out my name over the blaring noise in the hall, and I only saw him a little because students were making way for the arrest. He was being carted away in front of everyone, embarrassed in front of everyone, and Principal Hastings let that happen.

“Royal!”

“December?” Knight grabbed me, LJ and Jax right behind him. Knight’s lips parted. “What’s going on?”

“Royal’s being arrested. We have to stop them!”

The boys could see now, see it all, and immediately started parting the crowd. They did for me to run and them to follow, the process made easy with Knight. He bowled over motherfuckers, no one a match for his size and speed.

“Get the fuck out of the way!” he charged, but not quick enough. By the time we got outside, they already had Royal down the steps of the school and into a squad car. A line of school security stood between us and the car, so we could only watch on, letting them arrest Royal.

The police shut the door in Royal’s face behind the security line, and by then, the entire student body stood on the school’s brick insignia to witness. The squad car’s lights flashed, and next thing we all knew, they were driving away, Royal inside.

Royal faced the back window, watching me. He wasn’t even concerned about himself, all focus on me.

“Get back to class, everyone.” Principal Hastings pushed his way through the crowd. “I won’t hesitate to take away your prom. Be the example for Mr. Prinze.”

I made eye contact with him then, tears in my eyes, and he did nothing but fold his arms. He stared right at me, his look so fucking smug. He clearly believed he’d done a good job here today, and it took all I had not to punch him in his face for what he’d allowed to happen so publicly…

The bruises he’d no doubt left on my arm would only support the violence.

Ten

December