Page 43 of Turmoil (Elite of Elmwood 1)

Ainsley stood in the middle of the room, her mossy green eyes taking everything in. “Your room is fucking huge.” This was the first time she’d been here. I’d forgotten. “Not your style, but still. You have your own bathroom.”

Mads made herself at home on my bed. “What’s going on? You sounded frantic on the phone, which is understandable considering the week you had.”

Ainsley joined Mads on the bed. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the game?” she asked, eyeing my clothes as I turned my desk chair around and sat down.

“I don’t think I can do this,” I announced, ignoring her. My clothes weren’t the problem here. Nor was my messy hair.

Mads kicked off her shoes and pulled up her legs, crossing them like a pretzel on the bed. “Did something happen? Because from what I can see, the plan is working beautifully.”

I rolled my eyes. “It might seem that way, but something is going on, something they’re hiding.”

“Have you heard anything?” Ainsley asked Mads.

Mads shook her head. “Nothing more. Grayson swears he didn’t have anything to do with the pictures or them being leaked out.”

Ainsley plucked one of many decorative pillows and stuffed it in her lap to lean on. “And you believe him?”

“Hell no,” Mads replied. “They all lie through their teeth, especially to protect each other.”

My foot tapped on the floor. “So you think they’re hiding something too?”

Mads shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. They’ve never acted this way before. It is not like them to single a girl out. You can’t quit now.” A flash of something sprang into her eyes, but then it was gone.

I thought about Carter and his wandering hands earlier by the pool. I thought about all the other girls he might have harassed, about how far he might have taken things with them. Had they been too afraid to speak up? And I thought about the girls Carter had not yet set his eyes on. No one else should be subjected to my stepbrother’s shit.

And since neither his father nor Angie would to do anything about his actions, it was up to me.

“You should go to the game,” Mads said, seeing the wheels in my brain turning.

Ainsley cast me a furtive glance. “She has a point.”

I frowned. “Are you the two of you ganging up on me?”

Mads hopped off the bed, strolling toward my closet. “We’re looking out for you,” she said over her shoulder. “And you need to be wherever the Elite is. You need to be at the game.”

An hour later I sat in the football stands, flanked by Ainsley and Mads. Not how I pictured my Friday night, but I’d learned that when my two friends paired up against me, I was doomed to give in.

Bright lights lit up the field, highlighting the main event. Cars were jammed into the school parking lot. It was expected though, considering who we were playing. The long-standing rivalry between Public and Academy continued.

Fall was in full bloom tonight, and although the air was scented with bonfires, leaves, and grilled food from the tailgaters, a crispness bit the air that made me glad I’d worn a hoodie.

“Come on, let’s grab some drinks,” Ainsley said cheerfully, slipping a hand through mine as if she was afraid I’d bolt at the first opportunity.

She wasn’t wrong.

I didn’t want to be here.

But then as we weaved our way through the crowd past the school locker room doors, I caught a glimpse of someone standing in the doorway. Micah. His eyes locked with mine, lips curling into a cocksure grin. Dressed in his blue-and-black uniform, he swung his helmet in his hand. The pads made him look bigger, more muscular everywhere.

Mads’s nose wrinkled when she saw who had captured my attention. “Be careful with that one. Playboy, remember?”

Micah winked before I dragged my gaze away from him.

At the concession stand, I grabbed a soda and a hotdog. My stomach rumbled the second I sniffed out food. It had been hours since I’d eaten, and I didn’t think a single hotdog would do it, but it would hold me over until after the game.

It proved to be a challenge finding an empty spot on the bleachers to sit. That’s what we get for coming minutes before kickoff. As we zigzagged through the rows, Mads filled Ainsley in on all the Academy gossip, pointing out who was who. And Ainsley did the same, waving across the field to a few of our friends from Public. I realized that we were sitting in enemy territory, and I hoped Ains wouldn’t get too much shit for being on the wrong side of the field.

We had just planted our asses down and I’d managed to take a single bit out of my hotdog before the crowd suddenly jumped to their feet in an uproar. Ugh. The players made their way out onto the field, introduced over the loudspeaker. I stood up with everyone else, awkwardly balancing my hotdog while pretending to give a shit about football.

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