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“I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t sell you tickets,” I explain. “Do you really think Malcolm and the others will let us go?” My face drops as a scarier thought pops into my head. “And if they do, you don’t think they’ll try to do something to ruin it for us?”

I shudder, thinking back to Lily’s story about what they did to her at the dance years ago. Only that time, Emmett was one of the Elites. I don’t like to think of him as one of them, but at least it gives us the advantage of him having a pretty good guess at what they may or may not try to pull off.

“Knowing how conceited Bernadette and Malcolm are, they’ll probably be so wrapped up in it for themselves they won’t even have time to care about us,” he insists, not seeming worried.

I want to give in and feel a little excited, but I’m not entirely convinced. “You really think so?”

“A chance to get dressed up in expensive shit and parade around in front of the whole school? They wouldn’t pass that up for anything,” he scoffs. “I’m not going to go try to win prom king or anything, but they’ll let us go. I know that much at least.”

I catch the slightest glimmer of something in his eyes, even through his optimism. Up until a few months ago, he was on track to be prom king with Vivian as his queen. It may be silly, meaningless high school stuff that we’ll forget about by this time next year, but it’s just another reminder of how everything has changed for him.

“So?” he asks expectantly, snapping me back to attention.

“So…what?”

He smirks, looking somewhat shy. “Will you be my date?” he clarifies. “Will go with me to prom?”

It may be a moment that I had entirely forgotten to dream about ever since I started at WJ Prep, but all at once I remember that before this, I was a normal teenage girl with a typical life. Starting high school brought on giddy anticipation for a slew of milestone moments just like this. My hot, dreamy boyfriend asking me to prom.

I can feel the hormones and excitement surge through me as I look into his piercing eyes filled with the promises of a night to remember. Briefly, we get to be just two regular high school students feeling giddy over something as ordinary as prom.

“Of course I’ll go with you,” I snicker, wondering if he could ever really think I’d say no.

He swiftly slides his hand to the small of my back, yanking me in for an earnest kiss as if he really was surprised by my answer. I lose myself there for a moment, once again being reminded of how long its been since we’ve been able to sneak off to be alone.

“I’m going to make it perfect for you,” he promises with a smile the moment his lips part from mine. “The whole works. A fancy dinner and limo and all.”

I chew my lip with worry as he brightly announces his plans while we walk hand in hand down the hall. “Wait,” I stop suddenly, cutting him off. “Emmett…,” All at once, I shrink, realizing I don’t know how to express my concerns without offending him. But he’s wide-eyed and waiting. It’s too late now. “Well, it’s just,” I continue hesitantly, almost in a whisper. “Money…How will you afford all of that?


A look of astonishment washes over him as if he had momentarily forgotten about the loss of his fortune. He is still pretty new to living like the rest of us, after all. But he’s quick to recover. “Don’t worry about it,” he assures me, stiffening with a wounded sort of defensiveness. “You just get all dolled up the way you want and let me take care of the rest. I wouldn’t promise you the perfect night if I wasn’t prepared to follow through with it.” His voice darkens some. “Anyway, after everything...you deserve this.”

“Any night with you is perfect,” I insist, hating how corny it sounds, even if it is how I feel. “We could show up in rags after eating McDonalds for all I care. I’m just excited to be going with you.”

He smiles slightly but doesn’t look amused or relieved by my modesty at all. Emmett has had four years of his own dreams and expectations for these last few months of high school. I can only imagine what kind of expensive splendor he always assumed he’d have on his prom night. But suddenly it seems that affording even a fraction of that is some new mission for him to prove he can make it just fine without his family’s fortune.

While he drifts off into a distant, worried stare, likely scheming over ways to make money, I try to force myself to do as he asked. I do my best to forget about how it will all happen and just fantasize about showing up that night on Emmett’s arm, both of us looking better than ever, as I rest my head on his shoulder and dance the night away. Even when I did have time to think about these things, I didn’t think I cared this much. But now that it’s actually happening, I feel like I could burst with excitement.

We’re lost in our separate thoughts as we walk hand in hand out of the school. He stops at the edge of the parking lot and pulls me in for another kiss.

“I’ve got to go,” he says reluctantly. “Remember, I told you I had something to take care of.”

“Oh yeah,” I nod, yanking him back down for one more kiss. “I’ll talk to you later,” I smile, wishing I didn’t have to let him go.

I still have a big grin plastered on my face as I dig my keys out of my purse and walk to my car. But all of that fades as it comes into view. I see what should be my car, but it’s almost disfigured beyond recognition. I even look around for a minute, thinking I’ve made a mistake.

“Fuck,” I murmur to myself, as a tight lump forms in my throat.

The red paint is keyed and chipped down to a patchy gray mess, and over that every foul word you could think of is spray painted in layers. Cunt, whore, slut, bitch, and so on and so on. Any insult you could dream up. A couple of the windows are even cracked in with big circles, as if someone took a baseball bat to them. The only thing that isn’t completely fucked-up about it are the tires. By some miracle, they neglected to flatten them.

I look around cluelessly as if someone would help or tell me how this happened. But even the security camera hanging from the nearby streetlight means nothing. I know exactly who did this, and whether there’s footage or not, no one is going to do anything about it. I knew the Elites had been too quiet. I should have figured they were waiting to strike just when I let my guard down.

With a heavy sigh, I look around one more time, confirming my assumption that no one is going to help or offer me a ride. Emmett is nowhere to be seen, probably already gone.

“Well, I guess it’s still drivable,” I shrug as I unlock the doors. “Even if it’s fucked-up in every other way.”

But my heart sinks even more as I realize the doors aren’t locked. They got inside somehow, and the seats are shredded as proof. As I open the driver’s side door, I quickly realize cutting into the seats is the least of what they did to the interior. An awful ammonia smell slaps me in the face, causing me to gag and turn away as my hand rushes to cover my mouth and nose.


Tags: Rebel Hart The Elites of Weis-Jameson Prep Academy Romance