Page 57 of Iced Out
Other people noticed. Girls who usually hovered near Elise gave each other looks of disbelief—some smirked; some whispered. The higher echelon who aspired to gain entry into her inner circle, who were just underneath her sphere of power, seemed to shrink a little, unsure. Even the junior clique, free of her reach before, straightened. Bold. Because Blackwood’s reigning queen somehow just got shoved off her throne—and everyone, except me, was aware of it.
I caught Avery’s eye near my locker as I joined her for the show that was unfolding before us.
She raised a brow and whispered, “Did she just get iced out?”
Before I could respond, I saw it: Elise’s face tightened, scanning the crowd for weakness. Her mouth moved, like she was about to say something to Nina, but nothing came out. She stalked toward the east wing lockers, where Luke, Jax, Chase, and Theo stood as sentries. They stood with arms crossed or thumbs hooked in pockets, backs to the lockers—owning the hallway as if it had always belonged to them.
She slowed as she approached, smile clipped in place. More teeth than warmth. More defiance than charm. But no one moved to greet her.
Luke didn’t look at her, but he said something, and her head snapped back as if slapped. His arms were crossed, back resting against the lockers like the conversation he resumed with the guys couldn’t be interrupted. Jax angled his body, cutting her off with his shoulder. Chase ran a hand through his hair and turned deliberately toward Theo, laughing, ignoring Elise completely, effectively shielding her from their group.
She tried to step in, to close the distance—but the four of them held formation. No shift. No crack. Like the group was sealed.
Theo’s eyes flicked to Tori, quick and unreadable. She hesitated at Elise’s flank, chin tilted like she wanted to say something—but Theo’s expression didn’t change. Neutral. Cold. Not hostile. Just… done.
Elise stood there, frozen in that space where power used to part the waters—and this time, it didn’t. No one shifted to make room. No one stepped aside. Her jaw twitched. Shoulders rose, then locked. The moment stretched too long. Then she turned, heels clacking against the wood floor, each step a punishment as she stormed away.
I watched the space she left behind. The void. The silence. Then I glanced toward the group that used to flock around her like satellites. “Yeah,” I finally responded to Avery. “She’s being shut out.”
Avery exhaled—slow, satisfied. “About time.”
But she didn’t whisper it. And Elise wasn’t out of range. The sound of heels stopped. Elise turned on a dime, fury painting her cheeks red. Her eyes flashed retribution as they settled on Avery, narrowing. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you.” Her voice drippedvenom. “Then again, neither does cheap lip gloss or pretending you matter.”
Avery blinked. “Better cheap than expired.” Her smile was dagger-sweet.
Elise’s lips twitched. Her icy gaze dropped briefly to Avery’s linked arm with mine then slid back up. “Watch who you stand next to. You’ll get dragged down along with dead weight.” Then she turned again—except her walk was stiffer now, clipped, a clock running out of seconds.
Girls scattered in her path, but this time it wasn’t reverent—it was reactive. As though stepping aside to avoid the fallout.
Around us, the hall hummed. Whispers uncoiled down the row:“Did you see that? Was she just iced out?”One girl nudged her friend, pointing without subtlety at Elise’s retreating form. Another laughed too loudly as she passed.
The tiers were shifting. And the top just got lighter.
I let go of Avery’s arm and got to work opening my locker, the combination muscle memory. The lock clicked, metal clanged. I grabbed what I needed without looking.
Around us, every step and every sound felt charged—low and electric—a storm humming beneath the floor. I’d just closed my locker when a familiar presence shifted in behind Avery’s.
Jax. He leaned casually, back against the metal as if he’d been there the whole time. But his eyes weren’t on me. Or Avery. They were trained on Elise’s retreating form.
Elise glanced over her shoulder—just once—and caught sight of Jax next to Avery. Her expression hardened, turning even more determined as her focus slid to me. It was that vindictive look she gave right before she would say something cruel in passing that would fester for days. Except this time, she didn’t say a word as her eyes flicked back to the hulking guy beside us. Her red lips compressed into a tight line.
He didn’t speak, didn’t posture, just squared his broad shoulders. Subtle. Deliberate. A line drawn in silence.
She hesitated. Blinked once. Then walked faster.
He pushed off the locker, half-smirking, voice low. “She can’t touch you, Aves. If she tries, I’m your enforcer.”
Avery’s cheeks turned faintly pink. “Thanks, Jax.”
He didn’t answer. But he gave her a slow once-over, as if he was checking that she was okay, then glanced at me. Nodded once before walking off, as though he hadn’t just made a statement loud enough for the hallway to hear—and for her brother to note.
I bit back a smile. Because the fall of a queen didn’t always come with a scream. Sometimes, it came with silence—and a guy choosing who he stood beside. Avery’s grin cracked wide. Relief, satisfaction, and maybe a flicker of something else.
I felt that flutter too. A secret smile tugged at my mouth. Jax had finally made a move. Even if it was small.
Avery elbowed me, whispering, “Did he seriously just do that? With my brother ten feet away?”
I watched Jax pass Chase without a word. “Bold move.”
