“Sorry to have ruined your plans.” I stare out the window.
“It was nothing important, just coffee with Brianna.”
My body tightens until I’m sure some muscle or tendon will pop. I didn’t know Asher and Bree were close enough to have coffee without me.
Coffee.
It’s an excuse husbands give their wives when they’re cheating on them.
Breathe, Reina. You don’t care about this asshole.
He and Bree can get married and have demonic babies for all I care. But if they think they can play me for a fool, they have another thing coming.
I open my mouth to roast him alive but immediately close it. What right do I have when I’ve cheated on him first?
This is that karma thing, isn’t it?
For a long minute, silence stretches between us like a third passenger. Asher drives with his usual poker face while I seethe on the inside.
Volcanoes and hurricanes are running rampant in my head. I want payback, but I know if I act rashly, if I blindly give in to my emotions, the whole thing will flip against me.
“Do they know who trapped me in there?” I ask with a cool voice.
“You have too many enemies to count.” He announces it like it’s the weather forecast—a given, a normalcy.
“Starting with you.”
His piercing eyes hold mine hostage. “Starting with me.”
“If you hate me so much, why are you driving me home?”
“Image and all that.” He pauses. “I couldn’t stand there while the entire college saw you at your lowest.”
I gulp and fumble for my bag. I find the phone inside; the screen is fractured like my breathing.
It doesn’t take me long to figure out what Asher means. On the blackwood-black-book IG account, there’s a picture of me sprawled out on the classroom’s floor with my mascara streaked and my hands covering my ears. My hair camouflages half of my face, but it’s obvious that it’s me.
There’s no caption. As usual with BBB’s pictures, it’s just hashtags.
#FallOfAQueen #Look #SheCanCry
The picture has over a thousand likes and a few hundred comments.
‘Did someone play a prank on her?’
‘Is this a joke?’
‘I heard she’s been crazy since she disappeared.’
‘I swear I saw Jason, the Knights’ quarterback, drop her off. Knights’ whore.’
I close my eyes and power off the phone. I don’t know what stings more—the picture, the number of people taking pleasure in my fall, or maybe the asshole who had coffee with Bree while I was living a nightmare.
Pressure builds behind my eyes all over again.
Since I returned, I’ve been trying my hardest to atone and make amends, but nothing is working. No one likes me in that goddamn college no matter what I do.
“Aww, are you going to cry?” Asher mocks, a cruel edge in his v