Page 60 of Jerk
Passing some students, they whisper as Zurie and Chloe follow behind me.
“She’s back.”
“She looks different.”
“Wonder who she’ll ruin next.”
This feels almost normal, the envy reeking off fellow students like cheap perfume.
“Is it true you’re dating Rye?” Chloe asks.
My heels stop, almost at the main building doors. The girls stop with me, giving each other a cheeky smile like they know the truth.
“What on earth would make you ask that?” I ask.
“Well, a lot of things,” Zurie says. “Including this.” She shoves her phone in my face, and I hope my cheeks aren’t as red as they feel.
My stomach spins, that headache returning.
How the?—
Keep your composure.
It’s a picture of Rye and me in the campus steam room, my arms wrapped around him as he presses me against the glass wall. There’s no denying how into it we are. I told him the island was a mistake, but this picture proves different.
“Ladies,” I say, thinking quickly as they stare at me with wide, bright eyes. “You know I don’t kiss and tell.”
They squeal. “I thought he was undateable!” Chloe exclaims, pulling me back towards the fountain. “Tell me everything. Can he get us into Paris Fashion Week? What about Milan?”
“Wait, who’s better in bed?” Zurie chimes in. “Mac or Rye?”
That’s easy. I open my mouth to answer before I stall. I was with Mac for status, and that helped me stay queen, but Rye? Rye is different. Thinking back to Chloe’s photo, Mac never made me feel likethat. Rye is laser-focused. Precise.
Perfect.
“So it’s true,” Marisol’s voice comes from behind me. Turning around, her hands land on her hips. “You’re fucking Rye.”
Some students pause when they hear her words, so I sit down, pulling her with me. Chloe and Zurie follow. “Still have a big mouth, huh, Marisol?”
“Move it along,” Marisol says, shooing the students away with her hands. They do. No hesitation. No questions. Marisol leans in, shoving a straw into her iced matcha. “And you’re stilla whore.” Marisol’s jealous and while I didn't want that photo to get out, her attitude makes this moment much better.
“Careful,” Chloe warns. “She won’t get us into next year’s shows if you’re mean.”
“Don’t you guys have Krystal for all that now?” I ask.
Chloe shrugs. “She hasn’t been around.” And now they need someone else to leech off.
It was only a matter of time before these sheep became lost again without some guidance. But my stomach tightens when I think about the other reason they’re giving me attention. Ryung. I can’t be as honest with them about what’s going on. They think we’re dating, but we’re not.
Are we?
“Say sorry, Marisol,” Chloe urges.
Marisol’s jaw opens, looking at Chloe, then at me.
I arch a brow, feeling that power roaring back.
Marisol’s shoulders drop before she mutters, “Sorry.” There’s a lot more she needs to apologize for, but I let her stew as we both sit in this silent reminder that I’m about to be back on top.
