Sloane threw her head back and laughed freely as we continued walking down the grassy hill toward a set of bleachers that were pretty empty except for a few lingering girls huddled together, watching whatever sport the guys were playing down below.
“Gemma, the headmaster isn’t going to tell your uncle anything. Trust me.”
I wanted to trust her; I rea
lly did. But I didn’t trust anyone.
Shaking my head, I sighed and took my arm out of hers as she turned and leaned over a chain fence separating the field from the metal bleachers. “Trust me, Sloane. My uncle will find out.” My gaze shifted from her to the field, and just like that, a buzz went through me. A jolt of something hot started from the very bottom of my stomach, zipping all the way to my burning ears. I gulped when my eyes collided with Isaiah. He was several yards away, glancing up to where Sloane and I were standing as he took the bottom of his shirt and brought it up to his forehead, wiping away the sweat. My eyes instantly dropped to his torso, and my lips fell open.
Sloane giggled. “Oh my God, your face is blood red, Gemma.”
I sucked in a breath and quickly whipped around, putting my back to the field. “What? No, it isn’t!”
Sloane laughed even harder. “Don’t worry, it happens to us all. Those Rebels are hot. I’ll be the first to admit it.”
“Damn straight they are!” a few girls who were sitting on the bleachers called out from behind us, fake fanning themselves. “Tell us!” One girl grinned down at me. It was Callie. The same girl that I saw the first night I was here. She was still sporting her school uniform—we all were since school had just ended a little while ago—but her white blouse was untucked and tied in a knot right under her bra that was peeking from below. Her long, blonde hair was braided but not in a childish way. It was cute and preppy, and I was a little envious.
“What?” I asked, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious.
Callie’s group of friends laughed as she deadpanned, “How was he in the sack? Hopefully still as good as when I had him a week ago!”
In the sack?
Sloane must have sensed my confusion, because she stepped forward, placing her hand on my arm. “Oh, shut up, Callie! We all know Isaiah turned you down at the last party.”
My lips parted as I tried to make sense of what they were talking about. It took me a while to catch on to what they were referring to, and it made me hate Richard even more. I was good at blending in and acting like I wasn’t the strangest, most naive seventeen-year-old on the planet, but I was. I was so out of my element it wasn’t even funny, and I couldn’t just ask Sloane to fill me in because that would raise too many questions, just like it did with Rebecca at my last school. The thing was, I wasn’t a normal teenager. I hadn’t experienced the things most kids my age had. I knew that. It was just really hard to accept.
As I further listened to Sloane and Callie argue back and forth about the Rebels, I eventually caught on and interrupted Sloane when she growled—yes, actually growled.
“I didn’t do anything with Isaiah.”
“That’s not what he said,” another girl piped up, giving me a once-over. I ignored the urge to hide myself.
“Well, he was lying.” Blood rushed to my skin, and I wanted to turn around, stalk down the grassy field, and yell at Isaiah for making everyone think something of me that wasn’t true—which, to be honest, was completely out of character for me. But still, I could feel a smothered scream trying to climb out of my chest. I was angry. Really angry.
Another girl leaned forward. “Why are you denying it? It’ll only make you more desirable if you admit being with him. He’s the most popular Rebel there is. I bet all the other boys will want a taste of you now. Shit, maybe even I want a taste of you.”
Callie rolled her eyes as her friend giggled. I knew right then what type of girls these were. I noticed girls like them at Wellington Prep. I’d overheard their conversations many times during class and even in the bathroom. I didn’t quite understand their power play, but I envied them all the same. They didn’t bow down to anyone. It seemed as if nothing scared them. They were fearless, and they definitely knew their way around a boy’s heart…and body.
Sloane huffed as she pulled me around, putting our backs to the group of girls once again. “Ignore them. They’re just bored.”
My mouth spoke before my brain could tell me to stop. “I don’t really understand. Do they not like me now? Or do they like me even more? Did she seriously say she wanted a taste of me?” That was weird. Right?
Sloane gave me a side-eye, and shit, I messed up. “Gemma?”
My teeth scraped along one another as I gulped. “Yeah?”
“Just how strict is your uncle?”
Strict was an understatement.
“Uh, why?” I gulped again. My fingers began playing with the cotton hem of my skirt nervously.
“You just seem...” Weird. “Different. Like you’re…sheltered in a way?”
Silence passed between us as I debated my next words. There was a sudden halt to the conversation. A fork in the road. Surely telling her I was homeschooled most of my life wasn’t a huge deal, right? It was the stuff I was taught and punished for that would raise suspicions. It wasn’t even that I wanted to protect Richard. I wasn’t not telling her certain things for his benefit, but it was purely for mine. I had to act smart, form my plan, and crush him like a Mac truck when the time came. If he knew I was spouting off things that he wanted to stay private because he knew they were wrong, he’d rip me away despite the suspicions from the social worker. He’d find a way to keep me stowed until the time came where he could use me for his own sick desires. It would be difficult, but he would find a way if he truly had to.
My head fell back down to the field until I landed on Isaiah again as I debated what to say to Sloane. This time, he wasn’t looking at me. “I guess I am kind of sheltered. I was homeschooled for a really long time.”