Page 33 of Twisted Lies

Justin’s eyes are stone cold. “You are now.”

Justin holds up his hands, and I hold onto him as we start to move across the floor away from Pierce. The initial shock has subsided, and a few sharp looks and barbs are sent in my direction as we move across the floor. Gradually, other couples join us, more interested in each other than in drama. My gaze locks on Wren, and she shakes her head then looks away.

“Thanks,” I whisper. “For coming to get me.”

Justin smiles. “You really do look lovely. Every guy here is checking you out, but they won’t dare admit it to their dates.”

“Why didn’t you come with a date?” I ask.

“Because my intention was to spend the evening dancing with you.”

I bite my lip, and though it has settled down, I don’t want to be here. Obviously, I don’t fit in. And I have no one to blame this time. I fooled myself into thinking I could be accepted as is. I glance past Justin’s shoulder, and my eye catches on Professor Harmon, who is chaperoning the dance with another teacher I don’t know. Harmon looks at me and shakes her head as she continues her conversation.

“Are they going to kick me out?” I whisper to Justin.

“Why?” he asks, smirking, “Because you’re making the other girls look dull?”

He says it to be kind, but I feel ill as my stomach starts to gurgle. We step back, and I’m pushed from behind. I look over my shoulder at Wren, who’s smirking as she pretends she didn’t just shove me. Charlotte is seated off at a table with Bryce, holding hands. I turn my attention back to Justin, and soon, I’m pushed again. As I’m teetering dangerously on my heels, the song ends, and the band starts to play a fast song. I step away from Justin, and three girls grab hold of him, pulling him away. Immediately, I’m pushed again, and this time, I go down onto my knees.

Without Charlotte’s protection, the knives come out and start flashing. I struggle to get up, but I’m pushed down again—a hard shove in my back as someone tugs at my halo, pulling hair out along with it. I try to get back up, but each time a hand pushes me down as the dancing couples continue to circle around me on the floor.

My view is blocked by sweeping fabric and fast-moving legs as I try to crawl on my hands and knees toward a table. I’m shoved, losing my bearings as I crawl toward where I think there’s a wall. I reach out, and my hand grips a table.

I look up and see legs in front of me. Pierce smirks as I try to get away from him, but each time I move my hand to the side, it’s stepped on until I yelp in pain. With a shock, I realize I’ve been herded toward him. I spin on my knees as my shoe comes loose, but I can’t see past the long skirts. I hold my beating chest—the chaperones can’t see me past the dresses blocking me out of view.

I’m at his feet, staring up into his face. “You wouldn’t dare!” I hiss.

“I wouldn’t dare?” He chuckles. “Yet here you are, on your knees like the hardworking slut that you are. Should we find out how easily that cheap lipstick rubs off?”

Someone grabs me by my hips and drags me closer to his open legs. I start to kick and thrash to get away. I swore I would never cry at Stonehaven, but I can’t help it. Tears start streaming down my face as another fast song conceals my cries.

I spit as fabric touches my face, and I lash out with my fists.

“No!” I shout as I’m pulled forward.

My fist makes contact with his balls. Pierce snarls as his face contorts in flaring pain. He glares at me as if it was my fault. And his hand rises up in the air, ready to strike me. When I try to back away, I can move.

I feel a hand on me, and I start slapping, but the hand firmly pulls me up off the floor.

“Astrid!” shouts Prof Harmon, shutting her eyes against my flying hands. “Astrid, calm down.”

I lean into Professor Harmon as she hugs me close to her body, helping me to walk away. Harmon escorts me outdoors, and the cold temperature shakes my body as I ease ice air into my lungs.

“Do you have a coat?” she asks.

I shake my head. The door opens, and Justin steps out. His hair is ruffled, and his suit jacket is askew as if he had to fight his way out here. He looks at me, but Harmon gives him a dirty look that makes him hesitate.

“Go in, Justin,”

“I wanted to…” he says.

“Go in.”

I look away, and Justin walks back into the hall.

“First off, are you okay?” she asks.

I shake my head—no point in lying when it’s obvious that I’m ready to cry.

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