“Badder than bad,” I admit.
We’re halfway to the senior wing when the first bell chimes. Crap. I skid to a stop, torn between hurrying forward to find Reed and making it to class on time. Val solves the dilemma by touching my arm.
“If he’s already in class, his teacher won’t let you go in and talk to him,” she points out.
She’s right. My shoulders sag as I turn back in the opposite direction. Again, Val keeps up with me.
“Ella.”
I keep walking.
“Ella. Come on. Wait.” She grabs my arm again, and there’s concern etched into her face as she studies me. “He didn’t kill anyone.”
I can’t even begin to explain how relieved I am to hear her say that. My own doubts about Reed’s innocence have been gnawing at my insides ever since he got arrested. I hate myself for even entertaining those thoughts, but every time I close my eyes, I remember his torn stitches. The blood. The fact that he went to the penthouse without telling me.
“Of course he didn’t,” I force myself to say.
Her gaze sharpens. “Then why do you look so worried?”
“I’m not worried.” I hope my firm tone is convincing. I think it is, because her features relax. “It’s just…everything is such a mess right now, Val. Reed’s arrest, Steve showing up—”
“What?” she exclaims.
It takes me a second to remember that I haven’t even told her about my father yet. I didn’t want to say it over text, and there wasn’t a single opportunity to call Val yesterday because of all the chaos in the house.
“Yeah. Steve’s back. Surprise—he’s not dead, after all.”
Val looks a bit dazed. “You’re joking, right?”
“Nope.” Before I can elaborate, the second bell rings. This is the one that warns us we have one minute to get to class—or else. “I’ll explain everything at lunch, okay?”
She nods slowly, the stunned expression never leaving her face. We part ways at the next hallway, and I head for my first class.
Within three seconds of sitting down at my desk for first period, I discover that Val isn’t the only one who’s seen the morning paper. When the teacher turns her back on the class for a moment, some douche leans past two desks to shout-whisper, “You can come live at my house, Ella, if you’re scared of being murdered in your bed.”
I ignore him.
“Or maybe that’s what turns your type on.”
When I first arrived at Astor Park, I learned pretty fast that most of the kids here aren’t worth my time or effort. This campus is so gorgeous with its lush green lawns and tall brick buildings. It looks picture perfect, but it’s filled with the unhappiest, least secure teens I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting.
I swivel in my chair, lean across Bitsy Hamilton’s desk, and stare directly into the douche’s muddy green eyes. “What’s your name?”
He blinks. “What?”
“Your name,” I repeat impatiently. “What is it?”
Bitsy raises a hand to hide a smirk.
The douche’s face twists into an indignant sneer. “Aspen,” he replies tightly.
“Aspen? For real?” What a dumb-ass name.
Bitsy’s laughter is barely being contained at this point. “It’s Aspen, for real,” she chokes out.
“Jesus, okay. Here’s the deal, Aspen. I’ve dealt with more in my short life than you’ll ever experience, so all the idiotic insults you can come up with only make you look pathetic. I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think of me. Actually, if you don’t step back and rethink your decision to even look in my direction, I’ll make it my sole goal for the rest of this semester to drive you literally insane. I’ll stuff week-old seafood in your locker. I’ll destroy your homework. I’ll tell each and every girl in this place that you have gonorrhea. I’ll have pictures of you wearing girl’s undies made up and distributed in giant full-color prints around school.” I smile coldly at him. “Do you want that to happen to you?”
Aspen’s face turns as white as the snowy town he was named after. “I was just joking,” he mumbles.
“Your jokes suck. Hope you have a job with your daddy waiting, because I can’t imagine your little brain making it through college.” Then I spin around and face the front of the room.
* * *
At lunch, our table is subdued. I fill Val in about Steve’s sudden reappearance, but we don’t get a chance to discuss how shaken up I am about it, because Reed, Easton, and Wade join us instead of sitting at the football table.