Page 7 of Dirty Tricks

Jenna clutches my shoulder, gently shaking me. “He’s the one doing it, you dope.”

“Finn?” Now I’m back to where I started because there’s no way in hell my boyfriend would go to those extremes. Not to defend my honour.

“Of course, Finn.” Vonnie’s peals of laughter are so loud, I can’t help but smile, too. “Who else would it be?”

An alarm sounds on her phone and she makes a face. “That’s Mum pulling in the drive. Gotta go.” She bumps me with her elbow. “I’ll steal some lube from her bathroom for you. It’ll help with your tail.”

My smile stops as I nod, having no idea if she’s serious or not. Either way, the idea doesn’t exactly spark joy.

What on earth is Finn thinking? He can’t seriously expect me to wear that inpublic, can he?

“I’ll walk you out,” Jenna says, traipsing after our friend. “See you at dinner, Lexa.”

Once they leave, I go into the bathroom again, turning from side to side, trying to see myself from every angle. I insert the tail through the vent, resting the metal along my crack, but it’s uncomfortable as hell. I don’t want to imagine how much more discomfort awaits if I use it properly.

After a minute, I undress, staring at my naked body in the mirror. There are bruises on my upper arms. My throat constricts as I stare at them.

I stretch out my fingers to match the purple and brown blotches but can’t get anywhere close. My hands are too tiny.

A shiver hits, and I twist away from the mirror, getting into the shower and turning on the water, letting the cold hit me while I press my palms to the wall, only moving when it warms past body temperature.

The calming drops land against my head, trickling down my face, hiding the hot tears.

CHAPTERTWO

LEXA

After my shower,I dress in a short pink denim skirt that Finn once mentioned he liked and pair it with a bright yellow sweatshirt that makes me smile. Bruises hidden, I can once again look in the mirror, poking my tongue at the reflection before I leave for the cafeteria.

“Cut in,” Finn tells me when I try to join the end of the queue, scanning for Jenna. It feels rude, but he insists, and I don’t want to make him angry. Not when he’s trying to do something nice.

There are four choices for mains, and I stare at the heated bins, enjoying myself as I weigh up the pros and cons of each. I’m happy to allow students to go ahead of me when I’d otherwise hold up the line.

“She’ll have the broccoli and almond salad, no croutons, and the fruit yoghurt for dessert,” Finn says, shooting me a fond expression that verges on exasperation. “You’re so funny the way you can’t make up your mind.” He reaches underneath my hair to squeeze the back of my neck, collaring me, playfully shaking me back and forth.

It’s a loving gesture, even if he grips tightly enough that I hide a wince behind my shaky smile. He’s not being intentionally rough, it’s just he’s strong and misjudges sometimes because I’m small, even for a girl.

“I can make up my mind,” I say, but he doesn’t hear me.

It’s true. I just like running through all the combinations beforehand, thinking of how each one would taste, which of the deliciously different textures I’d enjoy most in my mouth. But I should learn to do it quicker.

At the end of the counter, I reach for a chocolate chip cookie, the crisp cellophane wrapping tied with a pretty jute string.

“You’ve already got one dessert,” Finn says, staring at me until I put it back. “Don’t be greedy.”

My lips press together, the insult cutting, and I bow my head in case he sees my eyes have a shine.

I follow him, but a girl angles in front of me and I jump back to avoid her, crashing into someone close behind me, instead.

Appalled by the hard jolt, I turn to see the boy from the janitorial staff staring at me. When my tray tips, he reaches out to cup my elbow, lightly lifting and supporting it so I don’t lose my dinner to the floor.

“Sorry,” I murmur, my gaze catching on the intense colouring of his hazel eyes. They’re shot through with brilliant gold flecks, like the world’s most expensive snow globe. For a second, I forget where I am, what I’m doing.

They’re beautiful.

I’ve never been close enough to notice before, but my breath stops. They’re the same colour eyes as the man from my dreams.

I get dizzy, inhaling through my nose and catching his scent; a mix of cut grass, machinery grease, and the salty tang of fresh sweat, like someone mowing a lawn right by the ocean.

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