Page 444 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

Rosie must really love this movie. She blabbers about it the entire way home and throws a sulk when I tell her I have a ton of homework to do so I can’t sit and talk about it some more.I sprint up the stairs, halfway to my bedroom when Harper emerges from her room.

We stare at each other in silence, my chest rising and falling from my stair climb. I almost can’t shove away the urge to pin her to the wall and rough her up. But I think about the message, about what’s waiting for me in my inbox, and I manage a wolfish grin instead.

Harper’s eyes narrow. “How was the movie?”

“Cut the bullshit.” I stick out an arm and push her out of the way—fucking gently, all things considered—and head for my room.

“Jude—”

She cuts off when I flip her off without looking back. I hear an angry mumble, and then I’m closing my door. Fuck, I wish Dad hadn’t taken my key. I’m going to have to be very circumspect. Last thing I need is someone sneaking up on me. I almost consider putting a sock on the door, but that would just draw the wrong type of attention.

I fall down in my chair and click to open my emails. After hitting refresh a few times, the email finally comes through.

“Yes,” I hiss under my breath.

$10,000?

Worth everyfuckingcent.

I spend the rest of the night on my computer. I don’t even go down for dinner. It’ll take me a few days to starve, but I’m running out of time before those test results come back. I can’t change the fact that I had drugs in my system...but I can force Harper to confess and hopefully soften the inevitable blow.

If Dad’s influence in this town can’t reinstate my scholarship, then I don’t know what the fucking point of being a Dearth is anyway.

Just before midnight, I’m done.

I sit drumming my fingers on the desk for a few minutes, considering my plan from every angle, looking for fault.

Not sure why I bother though...it’s foolproof. So much so, I almost want to wake up Harper and give her one last chance to do the right thing. Because this...?

God, this is going to hurt.

Chapter 51

Harper

I tap my pen on the desk, my eyes glued to the clock. The vodka in my water bottle isn’t doing its job. I have a headache,nobuzz, I haven’t been able to get Jude out of my head for more than a minute today.

Every class I go to, every hallway I walk through, the ghost of him is there. Although we hardly ever ran into each other during school, I always felt his presence. Even now, when I know he’s at home, it’s like he’s just around the corner.

I’m getting a stiff neck from constantly glancing over my shoulder to check if someone’s watching me. And the feeling is getting worse. Everyone in my English lit class keeps giving me weird looks.

Paranoia. I doubt more than five people in this class know my name. But as the class drags on, there’s an itching between my shoulder blades. I hear a suppressed giggle behind me, and when I turn around the girl sitting behind me drops her eyes and starts doodling intently on the cover of her workbook.

What the fuck?

Lunch couldn’t have taken longer to roll around. I don’t bother eating—what’s left of my vodka will hit harder on an empty stomach—but I decide to get a soda and some M&Ms so I can stop fidgeting.

“Harper?”

I look up and smile weakly at Marissa. “Hey. What’s up?”

She glances around, murmurs, “Meet me in the bathroom,” and then hurries away before I can answer.

My skin starts crawling. I down the last of my soda, take a big gulp from my water bottle and weave through the crowds starting to pour into the cafeteria.

“Slut.”

I spin around, frowning. Did someone just...? No one is looking at me—as in making apointof not looking at me. I try my best to block out anything else I hear en-route to the bathroom, but I swear I hear more than one whisperedwhore, orslutbefore I push into the restroom.

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