Page 24 of The Pawn

She's one of the Rosalinds. That shouldn't surprise me, but it sets my nerves on edge. Ineedthat job to get easy pocket change and do some investigation—losing it would suck.

"You know," I say, glancing over at the trash can, "my roommate would be upset to learn that someone threw my clothing in the trash. It's not very Coleridge-like behavior, after all."

Georgia rolls her eyes dramatically. "And what, I'm supposed to be afraid of your roommate for some reason? Is she a corn-fed fatty who's gonna suffocate me to death in her rolls?"

"You haven't heard?" I put a faux-surprised tone in my voice, cocking my head to one side and looking at the girls. "I'm rooming with Holly Schneider. She even recruited me into the Rosalinds. Apparently a girl dropped out right before the school year started." Stepping close, I confide in a low murmur, "I guess another spot is about to open up, since you'll be kicked out forthislittle stunt the instant I tell her what happened."

Eyes wide, Georgia's lined mouth forms a shocked O shape. "You wouldn't."

Veronica scoffs. "Holly would stand by you, Georgie. You're Tanner's best girl."

"Oh, right." I smile at Georgia beatifically. "Your not-boyfriend. The one who hit on me during the tour this morning. Apparently he likes girls with a littleedge."

"He wouldn't." She sounds doubtful, though. "I mean sure, we're not offish, but withyou?"

"Your little fling gave me a nickname." I feel a thrill at the hurt that flinches across her face. "He calls mefirebecause of how hot it was. Naughty little senator's boy, taking my wrist in the darkness of the chapel... can you really say hewouldn't?" I watch her face as she imagines it in her head. "Not ever, not even if he had the chance?"

"Shut up."

Tears well in Georgia's eyes. And then, with a dramatic toss of her head, she flees the bathroom so fast that her makeup bag drops on the ground, stuff flying out of it. Bursting into little sobs, she gets down on her knees to gather it up, stuffing broken palettes back into the bag. With a dramatic roll of her eyes, Heather goes to help her.

I should feel bad that I lied. Some part of me should object to making another girl cry, especially since what I claim happened didn't really go down that way—at least, not like I implied.

But when I look at Georgia's reddened, tear-streaked face, I find I don't care one bit about her emotional turmoil.

The snake bite scar on my hand seems to twinge in approval, the burn on my palm flaring with a satisfying kind of pain.

"There's something wrong with you." Veronica is looking at me now, her eyes narrowed, dark hair shiny and perfect. "I don't know what mental game you're playing, but no one is taking Tanner away from Georgia. Especially not you."

"You sure about that?"

"I am." Reaching out, she tugs on my damp hair, her lips curling into a sneer. "You can't even afford a good dye job, much less a nice blowout or a stylish cut for these ragged ends. I bet you still wear grannie panties and a sports bra. Boys like Tanner, well," she leans in close to me, voice lowered, "they expect a girl who can suck a dick like a pro, wearing lace and high heels while doing it. Sure you can compete?"

Doubt flicks through me, but I force my face into a neutral expression. "I guess we'll find out together."

"Good luck, ugly duckling." Veronica smirks and steps away from me. "Somehow I doubt there's a swan under all those blemishes."

They leave together, Georgia already drying her tears as her friends reassure her someone like me will never take her guy. I watch them go, anger and fear alike burning in my heart, wondering what I've gotten myself into.

Before I came here, I made a plan: to stick to the shadows, observe but never participate, and never, ever get unwanted attention.

Funny how fast that plan has gone sideways, even though I can't really see any other way for it to go.

Now I find myself wanting something more than just revenge. I want Tanner Connally on his knees in front of me, rapturous and in lust if not love—all while Georgia and her pretty rich friends watch as I take him away from her.

It's a pipe dream. Veronica was right; I'll never have that smooth skin, perfect hair, well-done makeup or lacy underthings. Tanner wants to toy with me, not touch me. And he'll stay far away from me now that Cole has declared all his friends and allies should do their worst.

That doesn't stop me from wanting to get him, just so I can steal his secrets, take his heart, and leave him in the dust like he deserves.

Enough time has passed; the trio of mean girls is gone, and they're not coming back. Hopefully the hallway is just as empty as this room. Towel tied firmly over my chest, I head out, taking my steps carefully and hugging the wall so no one will see me in my humiliating state.

I'm almost to the door when something slippery beneath my feet nearly sends me to the ground. Swearing hard enough that I can feel long-dead Papa Edwin's judgment, I look down at the traitorous thing that tried to kill me.

It's a credit card.

A matte, jet black one with the Saint-Pierre bank logo in the upper left-hand corner. The kind of card that doesn't have a limit.

Picking it up, I see the name embossed on the front and feel my heart do a little flip: Georgia Johnson. This card belongs to the very girl who is my rival in getting Tanner and squeezing him for all he's worth.

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