After the Halloween party, and the orchestra auditions, I’m left with two weeks of jibes, elbows, and crappy notes taped to my door, but that’s pretty much it. I swear, I can feel the three Idol guys watching me, but mostly, I’m ignored. Becky and Harper are the worst, carving the words "Working Girl" into my locker. When I walk up and catch them doing it, they don’t even look sorry.
Zack’s been messaging me on and off, just random things, but I’m so puzzled over why he’s bothering to text me that I don’t respond much. About a week after the auditions, Miranda is hanging out in my room and happens to see a series of texts come in. She digs her claws into me and refuses to let go until I tell her everything about Zack being the ringleader of the bullying I suffered in sixth, seventh, and eighth grade. How he was the one that found me after I took the pills. How we briefly dated.
She leaves the subject alone for about… three days before she brings it up again. I’m able to avoid her questioning for the most part by pretending I’m embroiled in schoolwork. It’s mostly true, too. With the workload pushed on us before our first official break of the year, I’m worked to the bone. It’s a relief when I turn in the final assignment of November.
The first day of fall break is a blur of activity, students saying their goodbyes, packing trunks up, and leaving in the shiny black academy cars. I watch them go from the cozy penthouse where Miranda lives with Creed. The first time she invited me up here, I refused because I didn’t want to end up running into that jerk. She promised he was barely here, and so far, she’s been right. I haven’t had a single run-in with Creed in or around the apartment.
“So you’re leaving Monday?” I ask, and Miranda nods, stuffing her volleyball uniform into a duffel bag. The Cabots are out of the country for the rest of the month, so Miranda’s going on an academy-sponsored athletics getaway. I’m not exactly the sporty type, and Dad is out of town on a job, so… I’m stuck here. “I feel like Harry in book one,” I groan, putting my face in one of the decorative pillows lining the window seat. “Left alone at Hogwarts for break.”
Miranda grins, putting her shiny blonde hair up in a high pony.
“Creed will be here,” she jokes, and I shudder. I don’t even have to fake it; my disgust for him is involuntary. “But I already warned him to stay away from you. He’ll probably be busy with… you know, whatever it is that he does.” Miranda chucks her bag next to the front door just before we both hear the click of a lock. We exchange a look as it swings open and Creed enters, freezing when he spots me in his living room.
“Hey.” There’s a dark note in that syllable, those blue eyes of his sliding over to me. He takes in my rose gold hair and flat facial expression, and then looks back at Miranda, closing the door behind him and then reaching up to unbutton his shirt. Unbidden, my gaze falls to his long fingers, watching as the fabric of his shirt parts and reveals smooth, hard muscles underneath. “I’ll be in and out. Don’t worry about excusing the help.”