Pretty When She Cries - Black Mountain Academy

“It was you, wasn’t it?” She lowers her voice to a whisper, but that doesn’t disguise her disappointment.

“What was me?” I croak.

“The text,” she grits out. “That video? You were the one who sent it to everyone. That’s why Jared’s gone, and Audrey is MIA…”

“So, what if I did?” Heat burns my throat, and irrational anger bubbles to the surface. “Whose side are you on anyway? Have you forgotten what they did to me?”

“Of course not.” She flinches, and I don’t miss the pity in her eyes. “But you aren’t like them. And you won’t heal your pain by hurting everyone else.”

“That’s easy for you to say.” My voice is like a hot iron, and I hope it burns. Courtney is supposed to be my friend, and right now, it feels as though she’s betraying me too. “You weren’t the one who had her pictures shared all over school. You have no idea what it’s like to wake up with no memory of what happened. To see yourself that way, while everyone just laughs—”

The words crack and dry up on my lips. Shit. Will these horrible feelings ever go away? I can’t break. Not in the middle of the cafeteria. I stand and gather my books, pausing to look at Court.

“You’re either with me, or you’re against me. But don’t you dare judge me.”

“I’m your friend,” she says softly. “I want what’s best for you, even if that means telling you something you don’t want to hear. I support you, but I can’t support the decisions you’re making right now. I don’t like the person you’re becoming.”

Her observation feels like an ice pick to the jugular. And it isn’t fair. Why can’t she understand this is what I need? My anger is the only thing keeping me focused right now. Revenge will make me whole again. I refuse to let anybody take that away from me.

“Well, do yourself a favor and stay away then,” I lash out. “That way, you don’t have to see it anymore.”To nobody’s surprise, Courtney doesn’t show up for practice that afternoon. Coach tells me she handed in her uniform, and the rest of the team barely blinks over the loss. But it cuts me deep, even if I don’t show it. I know Court only joined the dance team for me. She’s always been a good friend, and I think that’s why her betrayal hurts the most. But I just keep telling myself she did me a favor. I can’t embark upon a journey of revenge if the morality police are breathing down my neck at every turn. It’s time to stop feeling guilty and pull my shit together.

Our rehearsal goes off without a hitch. With Audrey gone, it’s amazing how much the dynamic changes. Instead of challenging me at every turn, the girls actually meet my eyes and speak to me without mumbling or grunting responses. Everyone except for Alexa Daniels. There’s something about that girl I can’t quite figure out. She’s friends with Audrey, sort of, but not close. More like a quiet, easily manipulated type that Audrey just uses for whatever she can get out of her. But I’ve noticed she never meets my gaze at practice, even when I address her directly. And as soon as coach calls time on the day, she’s the first one to run off. It’s odd.

A commotion across the field catches my attention, and all the girls stop practice to check it out too. It’s hard to see what’s happening at first, but the football coach is barking out orders as the guys crowd around someone on the ground. My heart picks up speed as I search for Landon’s jersey. A sick sense of relief swells inside me when I spot him, his helmet dangling from his fingers as he watches the scene unfold with a dark expression. It isn’t until the ambulance comes that we see who the injured party is.

“Oh my god,” someone whispers beside me. “It’s Carson. That looks bad.”

“What happened?” I ask Coach Lopez as she returns from that side of the field.

“Knee injury,” she answers solemnly.

We all watch as they haul him away, and an ominous cloud settles over us. He said he wanted to talk to me. He wanted to tell me something. But it was just a trick. I can’t allow myself to feel sorry for him.

“Let’s call it a day,” Coach says. “I’ll see you all tomorrow at the game.”11KailaniTugging at the hem of my black Lycra tank top, I count the seconds between breaths and wonder when it became normal to ring the doorbell at a literal mansion. Probably about the same time I started living in one, I guess. Sometimes, it still feels surreal. Like I was abducted by aliens and dropped into a completely new existence. The kind where gated communities and fast sports cars and first world problems are the new normal.