Chapter Four

I woke up to darkness and something heavy pressing against my head.

Then the smell hit me.

Dizzy’s fart.

It was worse than rotten eggs. It smelled like pure death. He was straddling my head against the pillow, unleashing chemical warfare directly onto my face.

I tried to grab him and throw him off, but the little demon tickled me so hard I fell off the bed, hitting the floor with a painful thump.

“Wakey wakey, big sissy!” he laughed, already sprinting out of the room.

He was so dead.

I scrambled up, grabbed my pillow, and charged after him. By the time I made it downstairs, Alessia was already sitting in the living room next to my dad. If looks could kill, I’d be six feet under.

I glanced at the clock.

8:15 a.m.

Shit.

My eyes went wide. I sprinted back upstairs, took the fastest shower known to mankind, and threw on my uniform. Barry Allen had nothing on me.

How had I slept through my alarm? I grabbed my phone and nearly dropped it when I saw 24 missed calls from Alessia.

Double shit.

I dragged a brush through my hair, snatched my bag, and hurried downstairs just as Mom walked out of the kitchen carrying a plate of pancakes, apron still tied around her waist.

Those juicy golden stacks looked like heaven.

Alessia was watching my every move from the corner of her eye. I wisely kept my hands to myself and followed her straight out the door.

“I’m coming with you guys,” Dizzy mumbled through a mouthful of pancakes.

---

By the time we got to school it was 8:56. Alessia hadn’t said a single word the entire drive after we dropped Dizzy off. She just stared straight ahead, jaw tight.

I already felt guilty enough so I kept silent.

Mr. Jefferson, the security guard, handed us late slips without a word. We were led straight to the principal’s office.

We knocked.

“Come in,” came the tired voice from inside.

Principal Freeson didn’t even look up from whatever he was reading. “What’s the excuse this time, kids? Forgot to bathe the cat?”

We stayed silent.

He finally glanced up. “Detention. Three o’clock. Room 112. Don’t. Be. Late.”

We nodded and left.

---

I was only twenty minutes into detention and already done with life.

Some girl I’d never seen before kept giggling at whatever Josh Jefferson was whispering in her ear. I rolled my eyes. Jocks always had a way with words. It made me wonder why Miss Jane couldn’t hear them—or maybe she had something stuffed in her ears the same way she had glasses perched on her nose.

I rolled my eyes again. At this rate they were going to play peekaboo with my brain cells.

Alessia was in the other detention room. Apparently we’d been split into two groups.

So far, so bad.

The door suddenly slammed open hard enough to rattle the hinges.

Hayden Vaughan walked in like the room owed him money.

Leather jacket on, shirt half-buttoned, his expression dark enough to make the entire class go quiet.

He looked pissed—like he either wanted to murder someone or simply hated being stuck in detention. Miss Jane opened her mouth.

“Mr. Vaughan, you are—”

He cut Miss Jane off with pure nonchalance, walking past her and dropping into the seat directly behind me. Then he put his head down like the rest of the world had ceased to exist.

Miss Jane’s mouth fell open in pure shock. She closed it slowly, already calculating a thousand different ways to make his life hell.

I, on the other hand, became painfully aware of every single inch of space between us. The heat of him. The faint scent of smoke and leather and the fact that he was sitting right there.

After what he caught me watching last night, I was extra cautious. We’d barely spoken before yesterday’s little hallway encounter.

I heard the soft shift of fabric as he adjusted. Curiosity got the better of me and I turned my head just enough to glance back.

He was still resting his head on the desk, but the tattoo on his left arm—half-hidden under the leather jacket—caught my eye. A detailed motorcycle design.

I didn’t realize he was already watching me until our eyes locked.

“Front-row seat last night wasn’t enough for you?” His voice was low, rough, meant only for me. “Maybe next time I’ll just invite you in. Since you can’t seem to stop staring.”

A few heads turned nearby and they went quiet.

“Excuse me?” I blinked.

He did not just say that.

He lifted his head fully now, resting his chin on his folded arms, eyes locked on mine with lazy arrogance.

“Play dumb all you want but I saw you. Both nights. Standing at your window like you paid for tickets.” His mouth curved. “If you want a piece of me, sweetie… all you have to do is ask.”

Something hot and sharp flared in my chest.

This absolute asshole actually thought I was interested in him. I didn’t even like his personality. He was basically a walking STD who’d slept with half the school—and he was ridiculously arrogant about it.

“I don’t know what made you think so highly of yourself,” I said coldly, “but just so you know, the world doesn’t revolve around you. I’d rather kiss a toilet seat than have a piece of you.”

I turned back around.

That might have shut him up, but the glare burning into the back of my neck felt like kryptonite.

Great. Now I’d pissed him off even more than he already was.

I had a real talent for choosing the wrong people to mess with.

Detention finally ended twenty minutes later, freeing me from my temporary nemesis.

I stood up without looking at him and walked out.

But something told me this wasn’t over.

This was only the beginning of a cold, all-out war.​