Page 80 of Forbidden Lessons

Chapter 22

Haven

Kai is practically glowing with power. He has this psycho-villain grin on his face that’s both charming and utterly terrifying.

It’s so hard to believe this guy and the kid I used to play with are one and the same. But I guess we all change as we grow older. We tweak our dials—some of them for the better.

Why do I get the feeling he’s spent the past few years seeing how far he can turn those spite, resentment, and hate dials?

At least I know this class isn’t bullshit. Professor Rooke is teaching us some valuable life lessons, like how easy it is for someone to turn into a maniacal dictator.

The first two rounds of Kai’s Survivor game were awful. He read both sets of secrets out loud, and then everyone was looking around, trying to see who looked the guiltiest.

Bought a leaked copy of a high school test and used it to get an A.

Stole money from their roommate’s wallet to buy weed.

Sold Adderall to fund their obsession with designer shoes.

Hooked up with their sister’s ex at a party, out of spite…while said sibling was at the same party.

I don’t know anyone in this class, save Kai and Melissa, and even I could figure out whose secret belonged to whom.

Kai picks up the last envelope, keeping the names turned away from the class, as if it matters at this stage. He’s already narrowed the pool from forty to thirty-six, and no one can keep a straight face.

Melissa grabs my hand, squeezes. “I’m sorry,” she says.

“What?” I keep my eyes ahead, but my voice is aimed at her.

“I’m a sore loser. Also highly competitive. I refuse to fail. But you’re nice, and so if it’s us next…I’m really sorry.”

Holy fucking shit.

“Uh…yeah…me too.”

“What?”

“What?”

Kai clears his throat. “Our first contender is starting off strong. They’ve,” he puts the next in air quotes, “sent nude pics to a teacher.”

Silence.

Utter, enthralled silence.

Can Melissa hear my pounding heart? I hope not, because it would be a dead giveaway.

I wrote that, and I don’t even know if it’s true.

Movement catches my eye. She’s glancing over her shoulder, staring up at the students, trying to see who looks guiltiest.

Either she’s a fantastic actress, or I assumed wrong when I wrote that secret down.

“Not too bad, not too bad,” Kai says, nodding appreciatively as he shuffles the two slips in his hand. “But is it worse than someone,” air quotes again, “’secretly living out of their car?’”

To Kai’s credit, he somehow manages not to look at me.

Because it would be a wild fucking coincidence, statisticallyunprecedented, that there would be two students living out of their cars at this prestigious college.

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