Page 41 of Science Project

TWENTY-THREE

NICOLE

Sitting in the passenger seat of Dad’s police car, I pulled down the sun visor.

Dad had forced me to stay home from school and from seeing his friends all week—because he didn’t want anyone to see how ugly I looked from the gashes in my face—but he finally let me go to school on Friday. And I felt so refreshed.

I glanced in the mirror on the sun visor, dabbing some Vaseline on one of my cuts.

“I canceled your breast augmentation,” Dad said, one hand clutching the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles whitened. “No sense in making you pretty if your face is all fucked up. Nobody will want to fuck you like that.”

While his words stung, I held back the happy tears.

I didn’t even believe in a higher being, but thank fucking God!

I had bought myself at least a few more months—maybe. If I had that much time left …

“Oh, really?” I asked as calmly as I could.

Because if I even sounded happy about it, Dad would be pissed even more.

“Instead, I scheduled another appointment with Dr. Aldridge to see what she can do about your face.” He turned into the student drop-off line and stopped the car behind an SUV. “But you’d better cover those gashes tonight for the game.”

“I will.”

“With makeup. Not bandages.”

“I have my makeup bag in my backpack.”

“Good. I’ll see you at the game tonight.”

After nodding, I exited the car and waved him off. When his police car disappeared down the street, I turned around and held my hands to my chest, a huge grin crossing my face and warmth surging through me.

Dad might not have trusted me—hence him driving me to school—but I had saved myself.

Bubbling with excitement that I didn’t have to go through surgery for Dad and his friends, I skipped up the front steps and headed into Redwood Academy. My cheer skirt bounced in the wind, and goose bumps rose on my thighs.

But I couldn’t even care how chilly it was here anymore.

The first bell must’ve rung already because when I walked into the corridor, students were hurrying to class. Imani and Allie—Jace Harbor’s stepsister—walked past me to their first class, each shooting me a dirty look.

Still, nothing could damper my mood.

Akio shut his locker and headed toward a back hallway, in the opposite direction of his first class. It wasn’t like I had flirted with his adviser to get his schedule so I could know what classes he had or with who or anything …

When he turned the corner, I followed him, slapped a hand over his mouth, and pushed him into an alcove with a recessed door to a classroom that hadn’t been used in ages. I pressed him against the wall and pushed my breasts against his back.

“Shh,” I whispered into his ear, releasing his mouth and dipping my hand to his abs.

“Nicole,” Akio stiffened. “What are you d-doing?”

“Making it up to you,” I murmured into his ear. “For making you stop the other night.”

“Y-you don’t h-have to.”

I slipped my hand into his pants.

“Nicole! We’re in the h-h-hall.”

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