Page 13 of Wicked Dreams (Fallen Royals 1)

Robert talks to my guidance counselor, having her switch me out of a study hall that was slowly boring me to death and into his class. He walks us out and claps. “Perfect! See you at the end of the day.”

“See ya,” I mumble, heading back to the courtyard. It took a lot less time than I expected. I doubt Riley is here yet.

I walk into the courtyard and stick to the edges. Caleb and his crew are throwing around a football, taking up a huge space. I spot Savannah and her new friends in the corner. Some of the cheerleaders are smoking, cigarettes dangling from their fingers. My eyes almost bug out at the sight of it.

She’s the cool girl. The one who rebels in the name of fashion. Short skirt, long legs, uniform shirt unbuttoned one too low. A hot-pink lace bra peeks out of her shirt. I imagine she has guys drooling over her, but all she can focus on is Caleb.

I have a niggling suspicion that she’s the mysterious texter. The texter who has blissfully remained silent for the past week. She may be the only one vicious enough to warn me away to my face. Well, except for Caleb.

I sit on a bench and pull out homework due at the end of the week. The bell rings with no sign of Riley, and I take a deep breath. I gather my things. My textbook slides off my lap and hits the gravel. I go to grab it, and a polished shoe steps on its spine.

“Hey—” I stop when I see who the shoe belongs to.

Caleb. There’s darkness in his eyes, and I want to crawl away from him. How many times do I have to remind myself that he isn’t the boy I knew? That something changed him for the worse, leaving this monster in his place?

“Thought I told you to leave.”

I grimace. “Did you?”

I tug at my book, but it’s useless. He leans his weight on it, crushing the spine.

Maybe he’ll do that to you, Margo. If you don’t listen to him.

I bolt to my feet, finding myself inches away from him.

“What’s your problem?” I demand. “Why are you such an asshole?”

He laughs. It goes straight through my chest, decimating me. His hand winds around the back of my neck, keeping me in place. It isn’t like I have anywhere else to go, with the bench right behind me and him at my front.

I shiver at his palm against the back of my neck. I hate it—I decide that I hate him, and it’s about time my body caught up to the anger he’s been dishing out.

“Go run to Savannah,” I mutter, staring at him. “Take whatever your problem is out on her.”

He chuckles. “I have, Sheep. I broke her, and she still follows me like a wind-up doll.” He tilts his head. “I have a feeling if I broke you, you wouldn’t do that.”

“What?”

“Let’s play a game.” He leans down, until we’re eye to eye. “First one to fold loses.”

“What—”

He pulls me forward by my neck, slamming his lips to mine. I fight him for a second. I struggle against the unyielding pressure of his lips on mine, but he captures my wrists behind my back with his free hand.

Hate radiates through me. He’s kissing me, but it’s all anger and fire. It’s hot and stupid, and I want to burst into tears. I want to back away, to scratch his eyeballs out. His hand squeezes the back of my neck.

He was the boy I used to love. I was ten. I was smitten. The thought of him was all that kept me afloat during the first year and a half of foster care. But now he’s someone else, and I want my old friend back.

I can get my old friend back. For an instant, I give in to the kiss. How can I not?

I’m strong enough to admit that I used to think about what grown-up Caleb would look like. What he would sound like, feel like. It’s nothing like this bitter agony.

My body softens, letting him mold me. It’s a relief for him to take over, for his lips to part mine. I wait for his tongue to sweep into my mouth, for the rest of the symphony to strike up in my mind. Him winning is bliss and sugar, and I’m drunk on it in less than a second.

And then he’s gone.

He releases me, taking a quick step back. He winces and swipes at his lower lip.

“You lose, Margo.” A glint of a smile flies across his face, but then it’s gone. “You know what that means?”

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