Harleigh
“Ignore him,”Celeste said as I returned Marc Denby’s hateful stare.
“What’s his problem all of a sudden?” I asked through gritted teeth. “I’ve been here six days now.”
It was Tuesday, and painfully apparent that my settling in period at DA was over. Yesterday, the whispers had been louder, the stares less curious and more hate-filled.
Marc Denby’s crowd of followers had poked fun at me every time our paths crossed.
Wilder’s pet.
Weirdo.
And my personal favorite trailer trash.
I’d let their taunts, their barbed words, and cruel snickers roll off my back. At least, for the most part. But by the end of the day, some of their poison had seeped into the tiny cracks of my heart.
Today… today I felt restless, walking a tightrope of emotion, like one wrong move could tip me over the edge. I resented being here. Resented my father and Sabrina and their stupid, rich, entitled lives. I hated Marc Denby and his friends and the way they looked at me as if I was less than dirt on the bottom of their shoes. But most of all, I hated myself.
I hated that I wasn’t stronger. That I wasn’t brave enough to storm up to Marc and dump my sloppy lunch all over his smug face. I hated that the first thing I’d thought of this morning when I’d woken up was slipping into my father and Sabrina’s bathroom and raiding their medicine cabinet for something—anything—to take the edge off.
I hated that my thoughts kept veering to Nix. That I kept imagining him swooping in to save me. He wasn’t my protector anymore, but my head and heart were having a real hard time sorting out the truth from the lies.
Once upon a time, Nix had been my best friend. Truth.
Once upon a time, he had made me feel special and cherished and had threatened anyone who dared hurt me. Truth.
Once upon a time, he had promised to always be there for me. Lie.
Big. Fat. Giant. Lie.
Because when I’d needed him the most, Nix had been nowhere to be seen. I could remember how it felt realizing he wasn’t going to come and save me from my father’s clutches. How it felt to realize that the boy I loved more than anything had abandoned me.
Yet, he’d stood there the other night, acting like something still existed between us. Like I was supposed to feel anything except pure hatred for the boy who broke me so permanently that I lost a part of myself.
“Harleigh?” Someone kicked me under the table, and I bolted back into the moment.
“Y-yeah?”
“Stop looking at him. You’ll only make him worse,” Celeste muttered.
Sure enough, Marc and his entire table were glaring in my direction.
“I’m not scared of him,” I said with a defiant tip of my chin.
“He’s not someone you want to cross, Harleigh. Is he an ass? Yes, yes, he is. But he’s a relentless ass. Don’t give him a reason to come after you.” Bitter laughter spilled out of me, and she gawked at me. “Are you okay?”
I was so far beyond okay. But I simply nodded, shoveling a forkful of spaghetti into my mouth, barely tasting it.
“Maybe you need to talk to Dr. Katy,” she said quietly.
“I’m fine.” Calling Dr. Katy was for emergencies only. I’d done my time at Albany Hills, attended their outpatients therapy group in the weeks before starting DA.
“You look like you’re about to go over there and flay him alive.”
My brow lifted with wicked intent. “Now there’s an idea.”
She snickered and some of the tension between us dissipated. “It’s the pep rally Friday…”