From across the room, I see Rafael pale and start pushing his way towards us—surely to save his precious dance decorations. Even more eyes are on
me now. Dean Withers and Robin spot me and they start making their way over.
I’m torn.
I know I need to stay away from them, that maybe if I can get through tonight and to Christmas break they’ll just give up on this whole records thing … but also, I’d like to live to see another Christmas.
And surely Jasper wouldn’t kill me in front of them … would he?
“You humiliated me,” Jasper hisses, bringing his face close to mine as I struggle to get out of his grasp.
“Yeah? And how many times have you humiliated me?” I want to sound angry and defiant, but the pain makes my voice shake.
“That’s different!” he snaps. “You were marked by The Brotherhood!”
“You’re our bitch,” Heath adds. He and Beck have slipped through again in our wake. A small circle forms around the three of us, and Olive stands on the edge.
When I look over at Beck, I think I see a single flicker of uncertainty on his face—just for a second—before it disappears behind a mask of cruelty.
“Well, for being your bitch, I certainly have a lot of dirt on you all,” I snarl, surprisingly emboldened given my current position. “I know you obviously have anger issues.”
Heath bursts into laughter … and somehow, of all the things, this is what makes me snap.
“And you!” I shout.
Jasper, who’s just raised his fist, hesitates and glances over his shoulder at Heath.
“You three are all pissed that I ‘stole your spotlight’ or whatever, when you were so strung out on Adderall you couldn’t even play that lacrosse game!”
Heath falls silent, a scowl darkening his features as the people around us gasp and look over at him. I grab Jasper’s wrist with both hands and try to push him off me. He’s too heavy.
“That’s enough,” Beck says, taking a step forward. “Just hit him, Jasper.”
And I thought I’d snapped before.
“Of course you’d want to shut me up. You’re the one who cornered me and kissed me outside the locker room!”
Beck’s face drains of all color, and this time as the crowd looks at him, both Heath and Jasper stare in disbelief with them. I’m carving a path of destruction.
I know it.
There’s no coming back from this.
Jasper is absolutely going to kill me. Might as well make my last words count, then.
“And you’re playing right into my hands,” I spit at him, and he meets my gaze again. His fist still hovers halfheartedly in the air, loosely formed. “Olive jumped at the chance to ditch you and come with me to this dance. And I don’t even like her!”
A laugh rips its way out of my throat. I feel like a maniac.
I must be a maniac, because only a maniac would do what I’m doing right now.
My breath is coming in heavy gasps, but that still doesn’t slow me.
“I only brought her to piss you off, Jasper! And you’re as predictable as ever—just an angry, horny bull in an empty pasture.” I don’t even know what I’m saying, but Jasper’s fist forms again as the rage tears across his face, and the two deans drawing nearer, pushing through the crowd that has all turned to face me.
“Let him go!” the dean yells, right as Olive bursts out into sobs and flees, shoving her way through the crowd.
“Olive!” Jasper yells, his grip loosening just a bit as he looks at her, then whirls toward the dean.