Page 39 of The Prom King & The Ice Queen

Savannah

The crowded hallsof Lindale High have never fazed me before. But today? Today my stomach is a ball of knots.

I blame Leo.

For the record, I am not afraid. There is no universe in which I would ever cower before the likes of April and her minions. She’s a petty, vindictive, manipulative little witch, but she’s not strong. And the only power she has will be stripped from her the moment she graduates and has to start fresh at college.

But me? I’m strong. I’m the kind of strong April can’t even fathom. I’m a survivor who’s gotten back on her feet so many times there’s no doubt in my mind I can do it again. Any time, any place, anywhere.

My chin comes up and my shoulders go back as I head to the cafeteria. I’ve managed to avoid April and the others all morning, but there’s no avoiding this.

The snickers and the whispers start the moment I step inside but I pretend I can’t hear them as I take my place at the head of the table.

We have to get this over with before Leo and the guys show, so I make it quick. “Did you actually think you were clever, April?”

Her grin falters.

She wasn’t at the party, but I’m sure she knows that Leo stepped up. That Leo took the blame.

And while I don’t typically like to give Leo credit…after the way he opened up to me in the car, I think it’s safe to assume that he didn’t tell any of his buddies about what really happened.

Which means that April has no clue.

I give her my best disdainful smirk, the one that says I’m three steps ahead of her.

Even though it’s not true. For once she’s bested me, and I am still so pissed at myself for not seeing it that my hands shake as I reach for my water bottle.

“It was just a joke,” April says, trying to sound sure of herself. But I see the nervous glances she exchanges with the others. “I never expected you to fall for it.”

Yes, you did. And you wouldn’t have cared at all if it ruined my life.

I’ve already planned out how I’m going to play this, but it’s hard. It’s so freakin’ hard not to lean over this table, grab this chick by her hair, and ream her out for her thoughtless, petty act.

But I sigh instead, shaking my head like I’m so much older and wiser.

And let’s face it, I am basically ancient compared to her. She’s never had to worry about anything serious, let alone where her next meal’s going to come from or if today is the day that child protective services finally makes good on their threat and takes her away.

As for being wiser? Well, I wouldn’t say I’m wise. But I’m so much smarter. Which is why instead of shouting, I’m freaking her out by taking tiny nibbles of my orange slices and torturing her with my silence.

“April,” I finally say, turning to face her once she and the other girls are all on edge from watching me and waiting for my verdict. “Here’s the thing, sweetie…”

My voice is saccharine sweet.

“You overstepped.” I wince like I’m sorry on her behalf. “Your attempt at a joke might have been cute if you hadn’t involved the Barons, but…” I trail off at the right time. The mention of the revered family, of Leo’s family, has April blanching even as she tries to laugh.

“It was just a joke! I didn’t expect you to actually take Mrs. Barons’ ring. She told us at dinner that she always leaves it on the bathroom counter, and I thought it would be funny if…” Her explanation trails off. No doubt she realizes she’s only making herself sound worse.

Although at least now I know how she knew where to find the ring.

She looks to her friends for support, but they’re still watching me with wide eyes, hanging on my every word.

I take my time chewing on another small bite, ignoring the tightness in my throat, the claws digging into my chest.

This could have gone the other way, and I know it. If Leo hadn’t stepped in…

I shake off the thought. Of what might have been, and also Leo. I can’t think about him right now.

His confession in the car yesterday won’t stop playing in my mind. The way he’d looked, all serious and genuine. No sign of the smirking, carefree idiot I’ve known all these years.

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