Chapter Two

The girls laughed harder, while Alison beamed like she'd just won an award and the guys the whole school cheered for during games, the guys everyone worshipped just watched.

Some of them smirked and some pulled out their own phones.

"Wait," one of them said, I think his name was Marcus. "Isn't that the girl who tutors?"

"Tutors?" Another guy laughed. "Who'd let her near their kids? She'd eat all their food."

More laughter erupted. It echoed off the locker room walls, bouncing around, multiplying, until it felt like the whole world was laughing at me.

Alison grabbed my hair this time, twisting until I gasped. "Since you love watching so much, let's give you a real show. On your knees."

"No..."

She shoved me hard.

I hit the floor hard enough to jar my teeth. My palms scraped against the gritty tile, skin burning. Above me, phones pointed down like weapons, recording every second.

"Please," I breathed, but the word was swallowed by their laughter.

"Please what?" Alison crouched in front of me, patting my head like I was a dog. "Please stop? But we're just getting started. Besides"—she glanced back at Jace, who was still filming, his expression utterly blank—"we're creating content. Right, Jace?"

He shrugged. "Not my problem."

Not my problem.

Three words and that’s all it took.

Three words from the boy I'd been stupid enough to think might be different, three words that told me everything I needed to know about who he really was.

The door burst open again.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"

Coach Miller's voice cut through the laughter like causing everyone to freeze.

Alison was on her feet instantly, her face changing into an expression of innocence so practiced it was almost impressive. "Coach! Thank god you're here. We found her like this. I think she fell?"

Fell.

I wish I actually fell

I stared up at her, then at the others. Every single one of them nodded along, faces blank with lies.

Jason though, really even had the decency to act like he was lying he looked like he didn’t care if he was caught

"That right?" Coach Miller looked at me, then at the phones still in some of their hands. "Then why do half of you have your phones out?"

"Snapchat," someone muttered. "We were just—"

"Out. All of you. Now."

They scattered like roaches. Alison shot me one last scalding look over her shoulder—.

“This isn't over” she mouthed

Jace was the last to leave, he pocketed his phone without looking at me, without a single flicker of guilt or shame or anything. Like I was invisible. Like I was nothing.

Yeah Lena, actually you are…..at least to him

Coach Miller helped me up. "You okay, kid?"

I nodded because my voice was gone.

"You want to report this? I saw enough. I'll back you up."

Report it. 

Report the daughter of the most powerful man in the city. Report the quarterback who could have any college he wanted. Report half the football team and half the cheerleading squad.

Even Jon snow in game of thrones would run from such oppposition

And I would probably lose my scholarship in the process because people like Alison had parents who'd sue the school for defamation. Lose my future because no college would touch a girl who caused drama.

"No," I heard myself say. "I'm fine. I fell."

Coach studied me for a long moment. I could guess the emotion that passed through his eyes—pity, maybe. Or disappointment. I couldn't tell which was worse.

"Get home safe," he finally said.

I grabbed my bag and ran.

The hallway was empty by now. Everyone had cleared out, probably headed to practice or after-school activities or their nice homes with their nice families.

I hugged my books to my chest and walked fast, not stopping until I hit the front doors.

Outside, the air was cool, the afternoon sun made everything look like gold. I walked home on autopilot.

Past the fancy houses near school, past the strip mall with the dollar store, past the pawn shop and the check-cashing place, until I reached our street.

Small houses, some with chain-link fences, most with at least one car up on blocks. Our house was the pale blue one at the end, the one with the peeling paint and the rose bushes my dad planted when I was little.

Dad.

The thought of him made my chest loosen just a little. Dad always knew how to make things better.

He'd wrap me in a hug and tell me their opinions didn't matter, that I was beautiful and smart and destined for things they couldn't even imagine. He believed in me so hard sometimes I almost believed it too.

I climbed the porch steps and reached for the door, already imagining his voice, his hug—

The door opened before I touched it.

My mother stood there.

Her face was pale, grey, almost. Like someone had drained all the color out of her.

Her eyes were red and swollen, mascara tracked down her cheeks in dark lines.

She was still wearing her work uniform, the apron from the house she worked at twisted in her hands like she'd been gripping it for hours.

"Mom?" My voice came out in a whisper…..Scared. "What's wrong?"

She opened her mouth, then shut it. Her lips parted

Then she crumbled.

Her knees buckled and I barely caught her, barely got us both through the door before we were on the floor together, her weight against me as I held her, as her sobs tore through the silence of our tiny living room.

"It's your father," she choked out. "Lena, baby, it's your father—"

The words after that didn't make sense. They couldn't make sense.

Heart attack.

At work.

Gone before the ambulance arrived. 

I'm so sorry. He's gone. He's gone. He's gone.

I held my mother and stared at the wall while my chest felt like it was going to explode from pressure

He's gone.

Dad is gone.

In that moment, with my mother sobbing in my arms and my body still aching from where Alison slammed me into lockers and Jace's voice still echoing “not my problem” in my head.

I realized something terrible.

My life was going to get a whole lot worse