Queen of Hawthorne Prep

My gaze drops to my tangled fingers. “I really appreciate you sticking up for me, but you might want to reconsider your loyalty.” As difficult as it is, I force out the rest. “People like Sloane and Kingsley, they won’t forget who’s side you were on when this all went down, and I don’t want to see you take the brunt of it. You’re new here and still getting the lay of the land. If you want to back off or distance yourself for the time being, I won’t hold it against you.”

When she remains silent, I glance at her.

Everly pokers up on the bench like someone just rammed a two-by-four up her ass. “Did you seriously say that to me?”

My eyes widen as my mouth tumbles open.

Ummm…

“I—”

She cuts me off as her voice rises. “I don’t give a damn about these assholes! They can all fuck off!” She leans forward and stabs a finger in my direction. “I thought we were friends.”

Stunned by the outburst, I whisper, “We are! That’s why I’m doing this.”

Doesn’t she get that?

Even though it’s been less than two weeks, Everly and I have grown close. Each day I was gone, she called or texted to check in with me. She stopped by the house to drop off a casserole and a pretty floral journal to write in. Every bit of kindness she showered upon me touched my heart more than she’ll ever realize. Which is precisely why I don’t want her getting caught in the crossfire of my bullshit. She deserves a fighting chance at this school, and she certainly won’t get that by befriending me.

It takes effort to swallow down the thick lump that has formed in the middle of my throat. “I just wanted to make you aware of the situation.” I glance around at the sea of unfriendly faces. “Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I’m kind of on the outs right now and that won’t change anytime soon.”

“You know what? That first day of school, you were the only one who reached out and introduced themselves to me. None of these people did that. I would rather have one true friend than a bunch of fake ass bitches who don’t give a shit about me.” Her scornful gaze bounces over my shoulder. “You think I wanna be friends with Sloane?” Disgust fills her face as she shakes her head. “No thanks. I knew plenty of girls like her in New York. I’m not interested in going down that road again. We have less than a year to get through Hawthorne Prep and then we’ll be free of this hellhole. We can do it together.”

Tears threaten to gather in my eyes, and it takes effort to blink them away. I’m not even sure the friends I had in Chicago would stand by me through all this. It’s a sobering realization.

“We got this, okay?” Everly lays a hand over mine before squeezing it. “So, now that we got that straightened out, how do you want to handle this?”

As I gnaw my lip with indecision, Austin plunks his tray down next to me.

“Hey,” he says, unaware of the conversation he’s interrupted.

“Hi,” I murmur.

Everly gives him a smile before her attention drops to his lunch. “Wow, hungry much?”

“All the damn time.” He grins before digging in. Austin has double portions of everything. The overflowing tray of food could feed a small country.

Her brows skyrocket across her forehead. I can’t tell if she’s disgusted or impressed or if it’s a combination of both. “You must have one hell of a metabolism.”

“You have no idea,” I mutter.

Austin shoves a forkful of meatloaf into his mouth before glancing over his shoulder. “Glad to see we’re no longer sitting at asswipe central. I’d rather be banished to no-man’s-land than put up with them any day of the week.”

I shrug, relieved that Austin wasn’t here when Kingsley sent Sloane over to do his bidding. My brother would have lost his proverbial shit. And then it would have all hit the fan. As Everly and him talk about a class they have together, a fresh burst of nausea explodes in my belly before threatening to revolt. When I jump to my feet, their conversation grinds to an abrupt halt.

“I need to use the bathroom,” I blurt before adding, “I’ll be right back.” Not waiting for a response, I hightail it from the cafeteria, down the hall, before pushing through the door to the restroom.

Thankfully, it’s empty. Once in front of the sink, I turn on the faucet and splash cold water against my cheeks. The nausea churning in the pit of my gut continues to roil. I’m half afraid I’ll vomit. I squeeze my eyes closed and focus on my breathing.

Deep, slow inhalations.

After a few minutes, the nausea gradually recedes. When I glance up, the image in the mirror is almost enough to leave me wincing. Kingsley wasn’t wrong this morning when he told me I looked like shit. My eyes are hollowed out and my normally sun-kissed complexion has been leeched of all color. And I’ve lost more weight. It’s staggering to realize how much my physical appearance has changed since we were uprooted from Chicago. And the last week has only made the situation worse. Everly is lucky. She can focus on graduation and getting the hell out of Hawthorne, but that’s not in the cards for me. Unless Mom discovers a way out of the contract, I’ll be tied to Kingsley for the foreseeable future.