Page 11 of Raise Hell

He lets out a painful groan, but smashing his gut on the table isn’t enough to kill the look of mockery on his face. “Fun as it might be for you, hurting me isn’t going to make this any better.”

I search my memory for any hint of Olivia Pratt before that night. “Does she look different?”

“Not really. I tore a page out of a yearbook from last year in the library. This is the same girl. I hope she has a decent trust fund — must have cost a pretty penny to fix her face after it got rearranged.” Vaughn’s eyes narrow on where Olivia has disappeared behind the drink dispensers. “You’re right, though. Something is different. I can smell attitude from a mile away, and that chick is covered in it. She wasn’t like that before.”

Like a phoenix from the ashes. The old Olivia is gone, and something very new has arrived in her place.

“What are the chances that she plans to lay low?” I ask, pretty sure I already know the answer.

“Let’s find out.” Nolan cranes his neck to peer into the drink alcove. As soon as the long blonde ponytail reappears above the stack of glasses, he cups his hands around his mouth and shouts loud enough to be heard over the dull roar of conversation. “Looking good, Pratt!”

The room goes quiet again.

Vaughn ducks his head with a curse while Cole laughs, spewing chewed bits of food on the table.

Olivia balances her tray on one hand as she picks up a glass filled with iced tea. Her movements are deliberate and unhurried as she comes around the drink station. If having the attention of the entire room bothers her, she doesn’t show it.

A smart girl would walk away right now. Or run, if she has any survival instinct left.

Olivia doesn’t do either. Instead, she stops to pay at the register and then saunters toward us.

People shift away from her like the sea parting. I can’t tell if it’s because they’re scared of this mysterious creature that has risen from the ashes of disgrace, or just don’t want to be too close when we burn her up all over again.

“Is this seat taken?” Without waiting for a response, she gracefully slides into the chair. The voluminous jacket is so large that it wraps around her like a blanket. My gaze focuses on the patch of creamy skin at the low neckline of her dress.

“Someone’s got a habit of ending up where they’re not wanted,” Cole comments. He picks up a bag of chips and tosses it at her.

Olivia catches the bag before it hits her in the face. Turning it over, she reads the label and gives a moue of distaste. “These are really high in cholesterol. I hope you’re not trying to maintain a girlish figure.”

The dig isn’t exactly subtle. Cole has been the general size of a linebacker since the fifth grade. He has a lot of muscle, but his shape is more bear than ape. Not that he’s one to worry about his weight, but his eyebrows raise in what almost looks like respect. “Not if it means I can’t pick up girls like you and throw them over my shoulder without breaking a sweat.”

Nolan and I both glare at them. I don’t like the note of flirtation in her voice when she talks to Cole, but Nolan seems pissed that she isn’t scared of us.

“You need to give me the name of the surgeon that fixed your face,” Nolan comments. He makes a show of leaning over to study her features like his face is pressed against the glass of a zoo enclosure. “From the looks of it, the guy is a real miracle worker. My little sister might want a nose job one day.”

Her gaze cools as it passes over Nolan. “Your sister should just use the same guy who did your mom’s vaginoplasty. Judging from the size of your head, she must have been blown wide open.”

I hear a guffaw from some asshole at the next table. The whole room is listening to this verbal battle.

That doesn’t surprise me anywhere near as much as the fact that Olivia is winning.

“Nice to see you back on campus, Pratt.” Nolan’s voice is dangerously low. “Although I’m surprised you’d show your face after what happened last time.”

“We’ll throw you a welcome back party,” Vaughn snipes, finally regaining his voice. There is a dare in his tone. “Just come by Havoc House when you’re feeling up to it.”

I expect her to break, show some hint of weakness. It’s not often that the Havoc Boys make one person a joint target. All around, other students watch for her reaction with bated breath.

Some of them probably envy her, but the smarter ones are waiting for the apocalypse headed her way.

Instead of responding to the obvious threat, Olivia only smiles. “I’m ready when you are.”

She rises smoothly from the table but doesn’t bother to take her tray. She didn’t take a single bite of the Caesar salad she bought, and I get the impression that move is deliberate. She strode into this dining hall solely for the purpose of being seen.

Olivia wants our attention, I realize, even if I have no idea why.

The image of her broken and bleeding on the forest floor has almost entirely receded from my mind. I can’t reconcile it with what I’m seeing now. The memory is still there, but without any emotion attached. It feels like it happened to someone else.

She catches me staring at her. The slight smile on her face turns into an aggressive frown. “What the hell are you staring at?”

Flicking her long blonde ponytail, she stalks away before I can think of an appropriate response.

When I glance back at Vaughn, he has a look on his face that I recognize. It’s the look he wears when he really wants to say I told you so, but knows I’ll probably punch him in the face if he does.

Olivia Pratt wants to play games? Fine.

There is only one group of winners here.

“Oh, it’s on.”

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