Page 73 of Wicked Dreams

Tomorrow is game day, which means… I really shouldn’t sneak into Margo’s room tonight. I need sleep. The thought sours my mood further. Although, the probability of her window being locked is high after I dropped her off. She didn’t speak to me the entire ride back, as short as it was.

Ridiculous.

I say hello to Liam’s mom on my way out, hurrying down the long driveway to my car. I parked behind Eli’s truck. We always pull halfway off the gravel to allow for his mom’s car to pass by. She gets home from work in the evenings exhausted.

Stone Ridge is the town next to Rose Hill. Same county but different schools. Actually, Stone Ridge High is the catch-all public school. The other two towns—Rose Hill and Beacon—have private schools.

Rival schools.

Lion’s Head has been the biggest pain in Emery-Rose Elite’s ass since sports were added to both schools. And of course, both seemed to level up in competitiveness over the course of a few decades. It helps that the teams play each other so often, and the proximity creates a certain friction between the towns.

Liam’s family moved here from Rose Hill after some financial difficulty, although he was able to get a hockey scholarship and remain at ERE.

Luckily for us.

I crank the music in my car on the drive to my uncle’s house. I need to see them before tomorrow’s game, or he’ll end up embarrassing me in some way or another.

I haven’t been here in almost a week, which probably means the floodgates are going to open on me. Things I could be doing better. How he talked to my coach about my game. Talk of sending me to Lion’s Head to be closer tothem, how it’s a better team.

They’re not a better team.

And no one is as good as Coach Marzden.

The route I take winds me back through Rose Hill and the looming spires of Emery-Rose Elite. It’s silent now, so far after hours.

Too soon, I’m pulling past the gate of my uncle’s estate in Beacon. His property is much more sprawling than my childhood home. He owns acres and acres of land, half of which is maintained woods. Then there are gardens, a pool, a tennis court. A separate garage for their many vehicles. A boathouse.

There’s a vehicle parked beside my uncle’s silver Porsche that doesn’t belong. I narrow my eyes at it as I park beside it, and exhale when Savannah meets my gaze from her driver’s seat.

Her face is a mess of puffy eyelids and streaked mascara. Her chin is wobbling.

I don’t give a fuck about that—she can’t just show up. I get out of my car and circle around to hers, yanking her door open.

“What are you doing here?”

She climbs out, barely flinching at my tone. She throws her arms around my waist, and I raise my hands away from her body. I don’t want to touch her more than I have to—and why would I want to, if Margo isn’t here to witness it?

That’s not part of the plan.

I don’t like anyone’s hands on me. Except Margo.

“Amelie is coming back,” she sniffs. “Two months early!”

“And that’s a… bad thing?”

Best I can recall, she and Amelie have been good friends since day one. Margo used to be in their mix, too. The fact that Savannah openly turned on Margo has been nothing short of delicious to watch unfold. Poor girl carried a torch for Margo for about a year, until the bullies beat her down. Eleven-year-olds are ruthless.

It’s hard being the friend of a coke-whore’s daughter.

“No,” Savannah cries, using my shirt as a face wipe. She nuzzles her head into my chest. “It’s great, it’s just, she’s coming back early…”

Revulsion sweeps through me. First, that she’snuzzlingme. Second, that her tears are staining my shirt when all I want to do is go inside and get yelled at by my uncle.

I’m givingmyselfwhiplash.

In their friend group—the popular girls—Amelie is in charge. She’s the captain of the cheerleading squad. The queen bee. She’s studying abroad this semester… well, I suppose shewas. But something has drawn her back home.

In her absence, Savannah stepped into her role almosttooflawlessly. She doesn’t need to be reminded that there are consequences for every action. This one is clear as day.

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