Page 55 of Raise Hell

Eleven

Excerpt from the diary of Olivia Pratt:

I wish I’d never gotten involved with a Havoc Boy.

He made me think that he was different, that I could trust him. Turns out that I was just another notch in his belt. When he sees me in public, he acts like he doesn’t even know me and then he’ll text me in the middle of the night because he wants to sneak into my room.

And I let him, because I’m the stupidest girl alive.

I don’t want to be a dirty little secret.

But being with him in the dark is the only time that I don’t feel alone.

I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.

* * *

Felicia is already waitingfor me at our regular table in the corner of the cafeteria. Even though the dining hall only opened for lunch a few minutes ago, the room is nearly full of people.

So much for avoiding the crowd.

I try not to let that bother me as I move through the line.

People act like I don’t see them staring at me or hear the whispers. More likely, they just don’t care if I do or not. The little stunt at Havoc House seems to have cemented my place as the school sideshow. If I had the luxury of being myself, it wouldn’t be so bad.

Evangeline Pratt would loudly explain to all of them where they could shove their opinions.

But Olivia would keep her mouth shut and her head down, so that’s what I have to do.

Although I’m sort of wishing that I spray-painted Fuck Off on my jacket instead, if just to get the message across more effectively.

“Is that her?” a random guy says loudly as I pass their table. “I heard she got railed at a Havoc party and then cried rape when she sobered up.”

The girl next to him pipes up. “No, I heard it was just the pledges. She tried to kill herself when none of them wanted to date her.”

“I’ve never seen anyone put down that much Havoc Delight without puking, got to give her that.”

“Swallowing is definitely not one of her problems.”

They don’t even seem to care if I overhear their conversation.

I remind myself that none of them saw Olivia after the attack. Aside from whatever anonymous person called the paramedics before disappearing into the night, Olivia basically vanished. One day she was there, and the next she was gone.

Everyone only knows the story that the Havoc Boys have been telling.

The one where Olivia is a dirty slut who couldn’t hold her liquor and got the biggest Havoc party of the year shut down by the cops.

The one where she had the nerve to show her face here again as if nothing ever happened.

I make my way to the table with an iron grip on my tray, just so I don’t slam it into the back of anyone’s head.

“I am never drinking again,” Felicia declares as soon as I sit down.

“That probably wasn’t the best way to learn the perils of underage drinking,” I say sympathetically. She didn’t wake up until Sunday afternoon, judging from when I got the text from her asking how she got back to the dorm. Today has probably still been pretty rough. Monday mornings are hard enough without a lingering hangover. “At least, now you know your tolerance for Havoc Delight. Might want to stick with softer stuff next time.”

“There won’t be a next time.” Her plate is overflowing with creamy pasta, and she regards it with a queasy look on her face. “I still feel like crap, and it’s been two days.”

“She says until someone is shoving a drink in her hand at the next party.” I take a sip of my Diet Coke. “I don’t know what your mother told you about peer pressure, but it isn’t a creepy guy forcing you to smoke a joint on the playground. The real pressure comes from how much fun your friends are having without you.”

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