Page 28 of Forget Me Twice

Smiling tightly, I make the final decision to just abort my recon mission. I’ll make a beeline for the courtyard and wait for Rhett to do his thing from there.

Of course, the most direct path will take me straight through the middle of the tables and past the upper echelon that’s currently still burning holes in the side of my head.

I don’t really have time for a confrontation right now, but I will definitely look like a coward if I choose to deliberately skirt around them.

I can’t show weakness. Not this early in the game.

I focus on the open doorway leading outside, keeping my gaze fixed just above the sea of heads. I’m oddly grateful at this moment for my hard-earned alcohol tolerance; I don’t think my reflexes should be fuzzed-out too badly.

I do have to stay on guard though—I don’t trust anyone in this hall yet, and I can’t shake a feeling like I’m wading into battle.

At the table directly next to the Rox Boys, sits Sloane and her best gal pals. I cast them a quick glance. Each one of them is watching me intently, pouty lips twisted with amusement. That alone sends my alarm bells ringing.

One more table down, and coming up on my right, is a large portion of Tristan’s basketball team. Some of them are perched on the tabletop, some lounge across the benches. Each of them have some version of an excited smirk or leering grin across their faces, mirroring the girls.

A player sits astride the bench closest to me. Jasper Lennon, Tristan’s starting power forward. He’s tall and broad and cocky; a consummate ball player. His mousey, brown hair flops across his forehead as he leans back and shoots a smug look in my direction.

Right as I close in, I sense it in my peripheral—a tensing of muscles, a subtle stretch of a leg. The anticipation squeezes my chest.

I’d expected cat calls, or maybe even food, but I suppose a nice public date with the floor is always a solid fall-back plan for these brain-dead jocks.

Bullying 101: Tripping.

My mind is sprinting now, frantically trying to visually catalog every guilty tell before they can put their plan into action. Then I see it, right there—part two—a bowl ofsomething, chunky and putrid, on the table right near where his elbow rests. With those two puzzle pieces clicking into place, Ijustmanage to clock the moment his large, sneakered foot shoots out, looking to connect violently with my ankles.

One important fact you should know about Sabine Winters, is that I am not physically strong inanysense of the word. Dominic likes to call me ‘a scrap of a thing’. Not fondly, mind you. So to compensate, my many years of offensive and defensive training have been primarily focused on agility, precision, and flexibility.

It’s a very close thing, but I do manage to side-step Jasper’s foot trap—rather deftly I might add. Only to realize myrookie fucking mistakeas I pivot to face my would be attackers.

Yes, I’m sure the plan did originally involve getting me down on my knees. It would have made their little show just that much more entertaining for the restless masses.

But in endgame terms? Jasper’s foot was merely the misdirect.

The sound of congealed, mystery meat leftovers splattering across my chest is obscene.

I don’t dare glance down, because my gaze is locked with Sloane’s, but I can feel exactlyeverywherethe alien concoction is now soaking through my blouse. It’s clinging in coarse, freezing patches against my skin, a matching chill skittering down my spine. I grit my teeth in revulsion. Sloane’s face is poised but her eyes are fucking sparkling with glee.

I let out a slow, steadying breath and push down the very real urge to put my hands around her slender neck. Feelings of true anger consistently elude me, but Idefinitelystill experience the urge to punish if wronged. Like a callous, avenging Angel—so detached from humanity that their righteous wrath becomes something cold and clinical.

But, I digress. It would be poor form to murder someone on thefirstday of school, though wouldn’t it? That’sat leasta Week Two endeavor.

The hall hangs on its collective intake of breath. A wet plop sounds out as the first chunks begin to slide off and hit the floor at my feet.

I flick my attention down to where Jasper still sits, needing desperately to replace that smug look of his.

Determined to come away from this shitshow withsomething,I bend my knees slightly and lean over so I can speak directly against the shell of his ear. “Your father has quite the taste for high class cocaine. Shame he’s such a shitty customer. Consider this your family’s first warning. Next time little Rebecca becomes the payment.”

I straighten, watching as my message sinks in and his slackening face goes chalk white. There is no love lost between father and son, which is why I had to resort to using the sister as leverage. Younger siblings are always much more effective as threats than the pressure of the debts themselves.

He doesn’t notice the chunk of meat that’s fallen off my shirt and onto his lap.Jasper Gregory Lennon, 18,is now officially my first recruit.

I slip out my phone, pulling up his contact details. I’d programmed every student and teacher’s number into my phone before ever stepping foot on campus. For times exactly like these.

SABINE: I’ll be in touch. You’re spoken for now.

A cruel smirk blossoms across my mouth as I hear the distinct ding of a message go off in his pocket. Satisfied that I’ve got him on the hook, I look back up and lock eyes again with Sloane. Leaning over to grab a fistful of napkins, I say, “You’re lucky we didn’t decide on first blood, Red. But I guess that’s a strike to you. Best of five?”

The raucous laughter that had started the moment their buddy had made his move now falters. I suppose they aren’t used to have to receiving any pushback.

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