Page 15 of Vengeful Queen

And I feel a bitter sting that makes the cold air feel mild. I let it slide but stop in my tracks. Wren stands in the doorway, staring at me. My confidence takes a hit as she eyes me. I start past Wren, but she steps into my path.

“What are you doing?” I asked her nastily.

“I thought you were friends with that girl?” she asks.

“We were, not that it concerns you.”

“It does concern me if you plan on pledging Theta next year.”

I press my lips together and hold onto my thoughts.

Wren continues. “Are you canceling everyone because you think you’re back on top?” She scoffs. “Money has turned you into a stone-hearted snob. Good luck being friends with yourself.”

I step in front of her before she can waltz off. “I’m not a worse snob than you.”

She laughs full-on. “Yes. You finally are. That’s what people are talking about. Surprised? You being a stuck-up bitch overshadows all your other drama. I used to feel sorry for you, but I’m done wasting my time.”

She strolls past me, her shoulder brushing me out of the way. Suddenly, I’m aware of people staring, and I wish Hudson was with me. I force my legs to unfreeze and rush up the stairs. Fuck Wren. She dropped me to go to Theta. I was generous about it, tamping down my jealousy because we’re supposed to be friends. Two-faced bitch.

WTF? Raine and Gamma looked down their dirty noses at me? Who is going to help them now? I was only trying to help, and they kicked me out, putting me on the curb like trash. I struggle to hide the tears on my face while I struggle to turn the key in the fucking lock on my door.

It wouldn’t bother me if they were wrong. I toss myself onto my bed, still wearing my coat and not giving a shit that my salty boots are marking up my comforter. I run through my mental list. Not being a Howland isn’t my fault. The OnlyFriends account? Well, I had to survive. Dating three guys? I can’t help how I feel about all of them. The stalker is crazy and definitely not my fault. I can’t be blamed for that.

I must have dozed off because when I wake up, it’s dark outside. The floodlight creates a lacy pattern on the window, and I stare at it until my eyes well up with tears again. I didn’t burn my bridges. I ripped them down, poured gasoline on them, and flicked a match onto the pile. It might take time, but maybe I can rebuild a few of them.

The hallway is empty as I tiptoe out of my room. Funny. When I was called a slut by strangers, I kept my head held high, but being called a snob by my friends has humbled me. Softly, I knock on Asher’s door, hoping he’s in. My heart sinks when he opens the door and frowns at me.

He steps aside. “Come in.” His voice is flat, as if he couldn’t care less if I was there or not.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out as soon as he shuts the door. “I’m sorry for what I said at the Oak. I’m sorry I thought you were involved. I’m sorry for letting everything keep us apart when I said it didn’t matter anymore.”

Asher pulls me into his arms as I teeter on the edge of my emotions. I sigh deeply as his hand strokes my lower back. And I melt against him, forgetting the pain he caused me, and I wait to be forgiven.

“Charlotte, it will be okay,” he says. “You can handle the fight. But you have to learn how to handle having the good stuff.”

“But do you forgive me?” I ask. “I never believed you were still bullying me. I’m not a bitch.”

“No, you’re not,” he replies softly. “Bitches don’t cry.” With his fingertip, he lifts my chin, and his strength rushes into me as we kiss. Slowly, he covers every inch of my neck with warm kisses, making sure nothing is missed and everything is savored.

I pull away, holding his cheeks in my hands, and stare into his blue eyes. A mischievous glint flashes in them, and I know I’m on safe footing again. The bridges burned, but I found a way across. But just as quickly as I’m forgiven, his expression shifts into darkness, closing me off. His brow lowers into a scowl as he sits down heavily on his bed. What did I do wrong?

Asher clears his throat. “I’m leaving school. I’ve decided to go back to Weymouth.”

I grab for him as if he’s about to leave now, tripping onto the bed. “You can’t. Why are you going?”

He pulls my hands away, and my fists reluctantly release his T-shirt. “I don’t belong here,” he says. “I’m on academic probation, and I doubt I’m ever getting off it. If I played a sport, maybe, but all I got is me. I realized over Christmas how out of my depth I am. I don’t intend to wait around and hit rock bottom.”

“But you wanted out,” I argue.

“Some people shouldn’t leave,” he replies, looking into my eyes.

Saundra’s face flashes into my brain, and I remember the empty words I told her. How I tried to encourage her when I knew she was never going to leave her neighborhood. “What are you going to do?” I ask.

“Financial aid is gone, so I can’t go to a community. I’ll get a job at a garage.” He inhales deeply. “And I might join my uncle’s club.”

Frantically, I clutch his shirt, desperate to make Asher change his mind. “You can’t. I’ll help you.”

His jaw twitches. “You and your money?”

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