Punk 57

I arch an eyebrow and turn around, seeing him smirk down at me. “Are you kidding?”

“It was fun, though.”

I can’t hold back the smile as my cheeks warm. Yeah, it was.

We walk into the school and head for my locker, and I notice he’s sticking by my side.

“I’m fine, you know,” I tell him. Yesterday—Trey, Lyla, and the lunchroom—feels like ages ago. I’m not scared.

“I know.”

“Masen,” someone calls.

I turn around to see Ms. Till, the Art teacher, carrying a pink slip. She hands it to him, speaking sweetly. “The principal would like to see you in the office. She wanted me to give you this in first period, but I just spotted you. You may as well go now.”

He takes the slip, and she pats him on the arm, walking away. Misha doesn’t read it, merely crumbles it in his fist and tosses it to the ground.

“What are you doing?” I ask. “If she can’t get a hold of your parents about the fights, she could bring in the police. Do you want to be found out?”

“I think we know how well I stay arrested,” he retorts, a cocky look on his face.

I roll my eyes. Yeah, okay, Rich Boy.

Pulling out my sketch book, I spot the cashmere scarf still hanging in the locker, and something hits me. He gave me a new scarf that first week. With perfume on it.

“Whose scarf did you try to give me that first week?”

His eyes drop, looking somber. “Annie’s.”

Annie’s? His sister?

And then my eyes go wide, and I turn to him, remembering what I’d said. “Oh, my God,” I burst out. “Annie. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”

I cringe at myself. I called her a skank, thinking she was some random girl who’d left her clothes behind in his truck. Shit.

“It’s okay.” He gives a half-smile. “I know you didn’t know.”

Ugh. I feel sick. I’m the worst.

“Well, you couldn’t give it to me anyway,” I scold. “She’d want it back.”

He grows quiet, avoiding my eyes.

I’d totally forgot his sister in all the drama. She’s a junior. Where was she last night? His dad must’ve come home during my nap, because Misha had to lock the door later on so he wouldn’t walk in on us, but Annie was never mentioned.

“Mr. Laurent.”

I turn my head to see Principal Burrowes coming down the hallway. Students move around her, everyone heading to their first class.

“In my office,” she orders. “Now.”

He turns away from her. “No, thanks.”

I stand frozen, watching. Just go, Misha. She’s not going to let him off the hook, and it’s only going to escalate.

“Now.”

“I’d rather not leave my friend alone when that piece of shit son of yours is roaming the halls,” he snarls. “Aren’t there laws about sexual predators not allowed to be within a certain number of feet from a school?”