“Transaction complete?” he says with a haughty smirk.
I nod, suddenly desperate to get past him, out of this creepy room. What if they won’t let me leave? What if they’re only toying with me, pretending it’s over?
“Can I go now?” I ask, my voice as wooden as my legs feel when he moves aside and sweeps his arm toward the stairs.
My heart is thudding, my knees trembling with every step. I’m sure they’re going to stop me. I glance around, but there’s nothing in the room to bring back for Mr. D. It’s completely ordinary.
When I reach the top of the stairs, I glance back. Royal is standing at the bottom, watching me go.
I turn and slam my shoulder into the door as hard as I can, not daring to hope it will be open. It swings wide, and I rush out, nearly sobbing with relief. Instead, I hurry across the library, knowing I’m not in the clear until I’m out of this room. I burst into the hall and balk, blinking at the sight of the small crowd outside. They step back, melting against the walls as I step forward, my knees threatening to buckle with each step.
When I’m in the hall, I force my gaze to stay straight, not to dart to the people on either side of me or drop to the floor. I’ve only taken a dozen steps when DeShaun, Dawson, and Cotton step away from the wall, into my path. DeShaun starts rolling his hips, one hand in the air like he’s riding a mechanical bull—or fucking someone from behind.
Cotton and Dawson pump their fists in the air, too. “Choo-choo,” Cotton calls, his voice echoing down the hall like a train. The next time, Dawson joins him.
“Choo-choo,” DeShaun echoes, still mimicking sex moves.
I swallow past the ache in my crushed throat, my hands going to my skirt automatically, gripping the edges as my step falters. Everyone in the hall picks up the chant until it echoes down the hall, through the school. I don’t know how I make it to the front doors of the school, but the next thing I know, I’m standing at the bike rack, trying to get my breathing under control.
I stare at my bike—their bike. They gave me that bike. It’s tainted now. I don’t want to touch it. But I don’t want to leave it, either.
I’m still there five minutes later, caught in indecision, when I hear footsteps. I know I’d better go before someone decides for me. But how can I get on this expensive bike that settled a score? I don’t want anything from them.
But how can I leave it? It’s barely used. I could sell it for a few months of rent money somewhere far from here. Haven’t I earned it?
“I didn’t take you for a runner,” says a voice behind me. I turn to see Gloria Walton approaching, her kitten heels clicking on the sidewalk. “I thought you were stronger than that.”
“It takes a lot of strength to run when you’ve been beaten into the ground.” I’m surprised at how normal I sound, even a little snarky.
Gloria plants a hand on her hip and shakes back her perfect, Barbie hair. “I fucking told you so.”
“Congratulations,” I say, bending to unlock my bike. “You’ve got everyone all figured out. Give yourself a gold star and a degree in psychology.”
I need to get away from here, from her, and this is faster than on foot. Guess my decision is made.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
“Does it really matter?”
She sighs and hooks her thumb through her purse strap. “Are you on birth control?”
I scowl at her. “No.”
“Then you’re freaking out that you’re pregnant right now, and you’re wondering how you’re going to afford a morning-after pill. So, come on. Let me take you to the clinic.”
“I didn’t fuck them,” I say, drawing back.
She blinks at me without comprehension a few times. “Oh,” she says at last. “Okay, then. I’ve got everything you need right here.”
She starts digging in her purse and produces a pocket-sized packet of wipes. “This is for Duke,” she says. “I hear he loves a facial, and who wants to walk around all day knowing that’s on your face, am I right?”
Without waiting for an answer, she hands me one and goes back to her purse, pulling out a pack of gum and passing me a stick. “This is for Baron. I’m no prude, but I am a lady, and who wants to swallow all that nasty stuff?”
She shudders and makes a face before rooting through her bag again. “And Royal, well, I hear he never cums, but I bet your throat is killing you right now. These will get you through the day, but you might get your own for tomorrow.”
She deposits a handful of throat lozenges in my palm and smiles.
“You just carry all that stuff around with you in case they force you to blow them in the basement?”