Chloe (Made Men 3)

When she felt the tug on her shirt from Elle, it snapped her out of it enough to run straight for the door.

Getting to the doorway, they found it blocked by their first period English teacher, Mr. Evans.

That was it for them. There was nowhere to hide, and there was no way ou—

“Elle, Chloe, go on back to class,” Mr. Evans said with eerie calmness.

Not wasting a single moment, they scurried out, hearing Mr. Evans’s voice trail off as they left.

“Ms. Ross, clean up the mess you just made. I can’t have other students thinking they can get away with this, now can I? Oh, and when you’re done, meet me in the Vice Principal’s off …”

So many thoughts began to swirl through Chloe’s head as they headed toward their Spanish classroom. Never had Cassandra been challenged like that, let alone embarrassed by the whole school.

There is no way we are surviving after that. She won’t let us.

“I am so sorry, Chloe. It was just a reaction. I didn’t want her to spill it on you,” Elle told her when they’d reached the safety of the classroom.

It was hard for her to catch her breath from just thinking about the plans Cassandra was going to have for them.

“I know, but what are we going to do? She is going to kill us. You know that.”

“I have no clue. Any suggestions?” Elle asked her as she sat down and dropped her head on the desk.

“Yeah, we become high school dropouts.”

Chloe couldn’t believe how it all had gone to shit on the first day back. Everything they had gone through before with Cassandra was going to be child’s play compared to now.

All she had wanted to do was keep their heads down so they could get out. We were so close.

Twenty-Two

One Word: F.U.C.K.E.D

Chloe sat in the back of her class, alone and scared.

Unfortunately, the last class of the day, Elle and Chloe were separated, just like it had been for them freshman year. Except, this time, Chloe was the one taking Health, and Elle was the one taking art. In fact, this last semester of senior year was taking a turn for the worst, and it was giving her déjà vu.

“Wait at your desk when the bell rings. I will be back to get you. I promise I will be the first one out in the hallway,” Elle told her when she dropped her off at Health class.

Impending doom set over her.

“Um, okay, I won’t move from my seat.”

“Good. I will see you in a little bit.”

“Be careful, Elle.”

She hated this. She knew Elle sounded strong and usually was just as strong, but she could see it this time—the glimmer of fear in her eyes as she walked away from her, in a hurry to get to her class. Chloe just hoped she would make it back to her unscathed.

Thinking back, Chloe could honestly say that freshman year had been the worst when it came to not only her life, but the bullying. Her scars had been the freshest then, and Cassandra had been trying anything to fit in to be at the top of the food chain. Yes, Elle had taken the brunt of it, and she didn’t think she could take it again if it got as serious as it had the first time.

Or even as cruel …

Barely able to catch her breath, Chloe sat behind the lockers, clutching the scissors in her hands. Having no clue how it had gotten this far or even how she had gotten in this position, she just wanted to disappear.

It had all happened so fast when Cassandra had placed the scissors in her hands. She didn’t even know why she had done it or what it had been for. Then, before she had known it, Cassandra had been fighting with some girl named Elle.

It all blacked out for her until she heard Cassandra’s voice, “Chloe, give them to me.”

Mustering up some courage, she concealed the scissors behind her back and planned to tell Cassandra that enough was enough. However, when she saw the scene before her, any courage she’d had quickly evaporated.

Elle was being held on the ground face down with Cassandra on top of her. With the help of her new friends, Stacy and Stephanie, holding her arms down, it wasn’t much of struggle to keep her in place.

A trickle of blood started coming down Elle’s face. By the looks of it, she had hit her head on the locker room bench on the way down.

Whatever she had been expecting from her best friend since kindergarten, it wasn’t this. In fact, this was the first time she had witnessed anything like this from her.

“Chloe, give them to me,” Cassandra repeated, sensing her reluctance.

Slowly, she revealed the scissors. Staring down at them, she was prepared to tell her no.