Page 12 of Wicked Games

What was the worst she could do? Make up some awful rumor about me?

That didn’t matter at all, because every possible nasty rumor about me had already gone around the school three times, thanks to Maverick and his minions. Jasmine would only be adding to the already-gargantuan pile of shit if she tried.

She sneered down at me. “I just thought you might be hungry, that’s all,” she said. “I heard people can’t really afford food in Oakfield, and I guess it must be true, because your body is so malnourished it forgot to grow a pair of tits.”

Her minions giggled around her, as if she’d said the funniest thing in the world. I was about to snap back at her when Zach Roberts-Smith spoke up beside me. “Grow the fuck up, Jasmine,” he said, glowering at her. Like me, he was unafraid of her and her cronies. “Oh, and we all knowyourtits are fake, by the way. Your surgeon has pretty loose lips.”

Jasmine scoffed. “If I knew your name, I might actually care about your opinion. But I don’t, so…” She trailed off, flipped her hair dismissively, and flounced away.

I grinned at Zach. “Thanks.”

“No worries. I’m so fucking sick of her. She was horrible to Abby, too,” he said, lips thinning. “Someone really needs to teach her a lesson. I just wish I knew how. If I did, I’d totally do it.”

Zach was one of April’s best friends, and he’d quickly become my friend too. He and April had grown close after her sister’s death—he was Abigail’s long-term boyfriend before it happened—and now they ran a drug awareness program together, mostly aimed at the freshman and sophomore kids.

“She’ll move on to another target soon,” Brooke chimed in, gently pulling a stringy piece of egg white off the left side of my head. “She’s just going after you because you’re the new girl.”

Brooke was April’s other best friend. Chemistry whiz, bookworm, and also my lab partner in bio. She was just as sweet and kind as April, although she was a little shyer and quieter.

Zach rolled his eyes. “That’s exactly what I mean about her needing someone to teach her a fucking lesson. She’s always got a target. It’s totally fucked up.”

“I know. But what can we do?” Brooke asked, wiping off her eggy hand with a napkin. “It’s not like anyone would ever listen to nobodies like us. We might as well be invisible.”

“Hey, I’m actuallygladwe aren’t super popular,” April chimed in. “I like blending into the background. That way no one ever notices me and goes after me.” She paused and cringed. “Sorry, Carey.”

I gave her a small smile. “It’s cool. It’s not your fault things have been so shitty for me here.”

“Fucking Maverick.” She shook her head and took a small bite of the ham and cheese croissant in her right hand. Through her mouthful, she added, “He’s such a dick for starting all this shit.”

“Language, missy,” a familiar voice called out.

We turned to see Professor Garrick looking at us from the hedge-lined pathway that ran behind our spot.

“Ugh,Dad!Stop interrupting us at lunch!” April said. “This is the third time this week!”

“Your lunch spot is on the way to my office. You know that, sweetie, and you still choose to sit here every day.” He flashed her a good-natured grin and took a few steps closer. Then he turned his gaze to me. “By the way, Carey, I was going to wait until our next class to give this to you, but seeing as we’re both here now…”

He trailed off and riffled through his messenger bag. Then he smiled again and handed some papers over to me. “Your essay on the Count of Monte Cristo,” he said. “Congratulations. You got an A+.”

My eyes widened as I looked down at the cover page. True to his word, a big ‘A+’ was scrawled at the top in purple pen. “Oh, wow. Thanks!”

“You have some interesting thoughts on revenge. I’d love to read a few paragraphs to the rest of the class, if you’re okay with that.”

“Sure.” I held the essay out to him. “I guess you’ll need it back, then.”

He waved a hand. “It’s okay. Just bring it on Friday,” he said. He looked at April. “Don’t worry, sweetie, I’ll get out of your hair now.”

He continued on his way down the path, and Brooke gently elbowed me. “That’s one good thing for you, right?” she said. “You’re doing great here. Academically, I mean.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m doing pretty well, huh?” I said softly. Perhaps the people who created my scholarship were correct after all—if someone on a wayward path was simply given the right opportunities in life, they could really excel.

Then again, grades were never my problem. Getting involved with the wrong people…thatwas my problem. Babylon was a fresh start for me, though, and judging by my new group of friends, I was already making much better decisions about who I chose to hang out with.

The rest of the day drifted by in what had quickly become a familiar haze—abuse shouted at me in the hallways, whispers all around me in my classes, and nasty notes slid inside my locker, all followed by leering gazes on the staircase as I headed for my dorm in the boys hall after a long study session in the library.

With a heavy sigh, I unlocked my door and glanced over at Maverick’s side of the room. The school maintenance staff had hung two curtains in the end—one surrounding my space and one surrounding Maverick’s, leaving a narrow open pathway between the entryway and the other side of the dorm, which led to our shared bathroom.

Maverick’s curtain was currently open, so I could see him reclining on his bed, reading something on his phone. He didn’t look up when he heard me enter the room, which I viewed as a small mercy. It was always better when people ignored me at this place. Especially people likehim.

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