“Sloane,” he spoke. “Sloane, will you just talk to me?”
“Move,” I said. “You’re in the way.” It was only when I flicked my eyes up at his face that I saw the bruises on his cheek and jaw, and around the left side of his face, near his eye. Ah, right. Because Elias had beat the shit out of him so Dana would feel bad and return my clothes.
Hmm. Elias hadn’t beaten him up enough, in my opinion.
Jordan sighed and stepped out of the way, letting me get to my locker. He watched me shove my bag inside and get out what I needed for first and second period, waiting, probably hoping that I’d give in and listen to him.
But I didn’t. I simply got what I needed, shut my locker, and went to leave. That was that.
Or, at least, I’d thought that was that, but as the day wore on, I swore I heard whispers about me. About me and Elias. About me and my old school. I didn’t care whatever rumors were running around this school, but I did care that Dana thought she could win by spreading them.
Because it had to be Dana. It had to be.
It was lunchtime when I was putting my books back into my locker that two girls surrounded me, one on either side of me. Carly and Dana, the two amigas who thought they could bully me into submission.
“So, Sloane,” Carly spoke, feigning interest, “is it true your daddy’s a serial killer? How do you even live with yourself knowing your dad’s the reason so many people are dead?”
“Yeah,” Dana said, nodding along with her friend, her brown eyes narrowed at me. Her yellow hair was pulled back in a cute, messy bun, a style I could never get right on my own head. “How do you live with yourself knowing your dad killed all those people, then raped your mom and sent her to the loony bin?” She was trying to hold back a smile, but failing.
“I live just fine,” I told her. I tried to leave the conversation by stepping away from my locker, but both Carly and Dana blocked my exit. The hall was still full of students going to either their next class or lunch, so it wasn’t completely obvious that they were cornering me.
I decided to shoot something back at her, hopefully something that would wound her: “How do you live with yourself knowing, no matter what you do or how desperate you act, Elias doesn’t want you anymore?” I spoke the question innocently enough, but anyone with eyes and ears would know that it was meant as a dig.
Dana let out a chuckle, acting like I hadn’t insulted her, but I could see through her act. I knew I’d hit a chord with her there. “I don’t know what you did to get Elias on your side, if you’re in some sort of weird incestual relationship with your cousin, but it doesn’t matter. He’ll get bored of you, just like he gets bored of everyone.”
“How’s your brother doing, by the way? I didn’t see the fight, but I heard Elias beat him up pretty bad at the party.” I smiled at her. “Too bad I missed it.”
She flashed me her perfect white teeth, as if snarling at me. “He caught Jordan by surprise. Jordan didn’t have any clothes, either, so it was a one-sided fight.”
“Oh, so you think, if Jordan had his clothes, he could’ve beat Elias?” My question was met with silence, and I saw Carly glance at Dana, wordlessly asking her how to proceed. “I think we both know the answer to that.”
“You don’t know who you’re messing with,” Dana whispered. The hall had emptied, only a few stragglers remained, us included. “You’re going to regret getting on my bad side, Sloane. I’ll make sure this whole fucking city knows who you are and where you come from. Nobody wants someone like you here.” Without another word, Dana spun around and sauntered away, and Carly chased after.
Dana thought me being my father’s daughter was some bad secret I wanted no one to know? She thought she could hurt me by, what, spreading the truth? There was no way she could’ve known that, at my old school, my father’s identity was common knowledge. I’d grown up with everyone knowing and everyone hating and distrusting me because of it. It wasn’t something new.
Still, it was a little annoying that she thought she could hurt me. As I watched her and her friend go, my jaw ground in annoyance. She thought she had me cornered… but she didn’t. I had to make her see that, but how?
I was never one to back down from a fight. The rot had taught me to stand my ground and stay strong, no matter what ugly thing stood staring back at me. Growing up the way I had, with money and the last name, I knew how to play a lot of games, mostly dirty ones.
Dana wanted to play? Fine. I’d play with her. I’d play, and I’d go right for the fucking jugular.
I walked to the cafeteria, picking a table that always sat empty, near the outskirts of the large room. Elias was already sitting near the windows, a good fifty feet away, though his eyes were on me.
I had an idea, but it was one that Elias wouldn’t like. He’d get pissed, and then I’d have to explain… but, I supposed, it was time I did some explaining, anyway. He should know about the rot in me and what it meant.
Across the cafeteria, I spotted Jordan sitting with his friends. He’d already gotten his meal from the kitchen, but he didn’t touch his food. He looked miserable, sad, almost. As if he could sense me staring at him, his head was slow to turn in my direction, our gazes meeting.
I made sure to give him my best conflicted face.
Dana thought she had won. She’d convinced herself that, whatever I’d done to Elias would wear off eventually, and he’d come crawling back to her—even though they were never together in the first place. She’d made herself so delusional when it came to Elias that she was unaware of another way I could take her down.
Dana had a weakness, and fortunately for me, I knew exactly who it was.
Chapter Fifteen
I didn’t hurry out once the final class of the day let out. I took my time in walking to my locker, was very slow as I got out what I needed to bring home tonight. The afternoon classes were alight with talk of me and my serial killer father; the whole school knew by now.
It was fine. I wasn’t mad. It was only a matter of time before someone put it together. But still, Dana had to learn a lesson: not to fuck with me or Elias.