Chapter 2

RAYNA'S POV

The next time I opened my eyes, at least four faces were staring down at me.

What the fuck had happened to me?

I felt a hand on my arm and I was made to sit up.

"Phew." A boy with black hair dyed at the tip heaved a sigh of relief. "I thought she was dead."

Dead???

The nurse came up to me and gently touched my forehead, causing me to yelp in pain.

"What happened to me?" I asked, trying to sit up. My head felt like I was being hit repeatedly with a sledge hammer, even as I squinted to lessen the pain.

"You fainted,” said the boy with the frosted tips. He held up the ball as evidence, like I needed a visual aid. "Right after hitting Tio, it was pretty funny.”

“Funny," I repeated. "I'm not sure that's the right word here..."

The nurse pressed something cold to the side of my skull and I hissed. "You have a contusion from hitting your head on the pavement," she said. "Sit still for twenty minutes or I'll call your parents."

No!

I didn't have parents. I had a mother who used a whip and a sister I'd stolen a future from. But this didn't seem like the moment to unpack all that, so I just said, "Fine."

The four faces thinned out. Mr. Frosted-tips stayed, crouching in front of me with his forearms on his knees, looking at the lump on my temple with the kind of horrified fascination people reserved for car crashes and reality television.

"It's very round," he murmured.

"Gee, thanks,” I rolled my eyes.

He grinned a smile. "I'm Cade. I was standing next to you when you went down." He paused. "I almost had a panic attack when your legs crumpled up like that, I've never seen anyone faint before."

I almost laughed. I caught it before it escaped and demoted it to a flat look. "I’m Ray…Michelle,” I cleared my throat. “Michelle Collins.”

“Michelle.” He nodded like he was filing it away somewhere important. "For what it's worth, you didn't even make a sound when you hit the ground. Everyone else would've screamed."

"I was unconscious. Do you expect someone who's knocked out to even say a word?”

"I don't know…I don't know how fainting works." He stood up, dusting off his knees. "The guy you assaulted is coming over, by the way. Just so you're prepared."

I followed his gaze, my heart growing heavy as I saw him cutting through the room.

He had on an athletic hoodie, and the kind of jaw that I*******m would have strong feelings about. He had two other boys trailing behind him — one lean with close-cut hair who looked mildly apologetic when our eyes met, and another with his hands shoved in his pockets who seemed to be here purely as a spectator.

The jerk stopped in front of me, looked at the lump then at my face and he brought his hand up to his mouth to muffle his laughter.

"What a perfect case of instant karma," he said.

I blinked. "Really - That's what you have to say.?"

"You hit me first,” he shrugged. “It's not like you couldn't just mind your business. This isn't my fault.”

"You were bullying an innocent bo…” I paused, genuinely trying to locate words appropriate to the scale of this situation, and failing.

“And who told you he's innocent?”

"You know what, never mind. You're right, it's none of my business." I pressed the ice pack back to my temple. "Just go away now."

He didn't go away. He crouched down to my eye level instead, which was worse, because it meant I had to look directly at him and his entirely unbothered face.

Then he reached out and touched the lump.

Just like that. Without any warning or hesitation, he was touching my face.

The shock hit me like a door slamming open in a storm. I shoved his hand away so hard he rocked back on his heels.

"Don't touch me!" He backed away. “Are you a barbarian or something??”

"Aggressive," he chuckled, shaking out his hand. Something moved behind his eyes before his expression reset to its default factory setting of smug. "Relaxx."

He tried touching again and I slapped his hand off. My refusal seemed to make him happy. He kept going at it until I reached my wits end.

I picked up my tin water bottle and swung it. My aim was the side of his face but he got lucky.

The clang it made against his shoulder was genuinely one of the more satisfying sounds I had ever heard in my life.

"What the-" He stumbled, hand flying to his arm, the smug disappearing from his face and was replaced by shock. "Did you just try to hit me??… again?!"

"Well you just touched me without permission, so I guess we're even now," I replied pleasantly.

Behind him, the lean apologetic one turned away very quickly. His shoulders were shaking. The one with his hands in his pockets was just staring at me, and when I glanced at him, he raised both eyebrows — not in a bad way. More like he was reassessing something.

Cade had both hands over his mouth.

"That is not the same thing," the tall-and-insufferable dude said.

"Well you're conscious, aren't you? Could've been worse." I set the bottle back down. "What's your name?"

He stared at me like he was still computing the bottle. "Tio."

"Tio." I nodded. "Don't come near me again, Tio."

I stood up and turned to leave, took three steps and as I turned slowly I saw Tio with his phone raised high and on the screen it pictured me, an Ice pack, the lump with an expression of a girl one inconvenience away from committing something. He was grinning like he'd just won something.

"First day content," he said. "Very compelling. I'm thinking a caption like — met a girl, she assaulted me, four stars—"

"Post it and I'll find a baseball bat of my own," I said.

"Ooh." That was the spectator boy, speaking for the first time. His voice was low. "She looks like she means it, Tio."

"I never say things I don't mean," I said. I wasn't sure why I was talking to him. I turned back to Tio. "Delete it now!."

"I’m actually Saving it,." He tucked his phone away, with a smile intact. "Don't go far, baseball bat. Although that won't really matter. This college is small and I have a feeling we'll be seeing each other again soon."

I looked at him and at the apologetic one, who gave me a small, genuinely sorry shrug. And then at the spectator, who was still watching me with those raised eyebrows and an expression I didn't have a name for. I turned to Cade, who gave me a little wave.

Four boys. First forty minutes in this college. I had a stolen identity, and now a boil the size of a tangerine was growing out of my skull, with a photographic evidence of my worst moment saved on a stranger's phone.

“I'm so lucky,” I murmured with sarcastic bitterness.