Armani’s POV

  A flock of ravens swarms the roof of the school. They circle around, hovering for a second before catching a draft and drifting up into the clear sky. They sway with the wind, unbothered by the noon sun, gliding left and right before settling back onto the top of the building. Do they follow each other because they want to, or is it what they’re forced to do?

  Jaiden’s head pops into my line of sight. The smell of his sugary breath snaps me out of it. "Are you still high?"

  "Do you think ravens have their own brains?" I take a sip of my Monster. "Or, are they just black?"

  He follows my gaze to the roof and pauses for a second. "Yep. Still high." He adds, "And those are crows, by the way."

  I’m pretty sure they’re ravens. Ravens are smart. They don't lash out at the people close to them just because they’re out of it. The masks they wear don’t crack at the wrong time. The sight of the ravens gets blocked by a girl with swaying curly hair and reddish pimples scattered across her cheeks. She hides her hands behind her back, wearing a tiny, polite smile as fake as her tone.

  "I heard from Marigold that you didn’t like the soccer club," she says. "Said you fell on gravel and hurt your thigh. I was just wondering…" She licks her lips, her voice getting quieter. "If you’re okay."

  Not the student council bullshit again. They’re hunting me everywhere: in class, on my phone, and even when I’m trying to chill with a drink.

  "I’m good," I tell her. She doesn’t move though.

  She tilts her head to the side. "By the way, we need members for our cooking club team. Pink Bubbles—that’s what the team is called. I mean, in case you’re interested."

  "Pink Bubbles?" I repeat, making sure the stupid name I’ve just heard is not a mistake.

  She nods, her smile widening as she takes a step closer. "We baked those cookies I gave you this morning. Did you like them?"

  She gave me cookies this morning? Oh, the ones we left at the cafeteria and probably got tossed by the workers.

  Jaiden jumps in. His voice gets weirdly deep and quiet. "Loved them. They were so delicious. You guys did a great job."

  The girl chuckles and brings her hands around to the front, clutching her phone. Now I see the point of this whole conversation.

  "Oh my god, I’m so glad to hear that." She glances at Jaiden, then looks back at me. "Maybe it’s your sign to join Pink Bubbles."

  "I’ll pass." I take a sip of my drink.

  The girl’s smile drops.

  "We’ll think about it," Jaiden says, grinning at her. "You know, too many choices."

  She gulps; the nice girl act is starting to wear thin, I see. "Okay." She extends her phone toward me and tries one more smile. "Can I have your number? I know you’re new and… ugh…"

  I check her out one more time. Nope, not my type.

  "I’m good," I say, then take another sip.

  She freezes. "You’ll need help figuring out how things work around here." A laugh escapes her mouth, "I’m... I'm just here to help."

  Why is she still talking? I stare back. The silence is getting awkward, and I can see her face starting to flush. I wonder how long it’ll take her to realize I’m not interested.

  Jaiden steps in again. "We’re already getting the hang of the place. Appreciate it, though."

  She takes a step back, then nods. She mumbles something I don’t care enough to listen to before turning on her heel to leave.

  "Thanks for the cookies!" Jaiden calls out as she walks away. "We’ll think about the club!"

  "Pink Bubbles? Did they shove their hands up their asses to come up with that name?"

  Jaiden elbows me to shut up until she’s far enough. "Bro, what is wrong with you? You should talk to the ladies better than that."

  "What ladies? She’s ugly."

  I squeeze the can, finishing the last of the drink. I aim for the trash can near the bench across from us, but then I spot a nun walking in the distance, so I lower my hand. I’m not in the mood for a lecture from a Karen today. Or, maybe I am. I hurl the can at the bin. It misses and clatters onto the pavement behind it. Good thing no one around noticed.

  Jaiden turns to me, an uneasy look on his face. "Are you ready for the game tonight? I got Laura. We’re not close, I don’t know what to write. What do you think?"

  "Laura…" I think for a second. "Yesterday she could barely talk and skipped class, but today she’s fine. She even went to that choir practice, but she acted like she had a sore throat. She’s totally faking it."

  He nods. "Yeah, that’s weird. Why would she do that?"

  I don’t have a real answer. I don’t know where she goes or what she does in this place. All I know is she’s got a crush on some guy. Maybe she dips to meet him? But if things were going well, she’d probably be bragging about it. Faking sick is a sneaky way to stay off the radar, my radar.

  "She’s hiding something," I say out loud.

  Jaiden shrugs. "Why don’t we just ask her?"

  "Because it’s stupid to walk up to someone who’s hiding something and tell them you know they’re hiding something."

  "Why?"

  "They’ll get defensive and call you a creep," I tell him. "If you catch someone being sneaky, you don’t bring it up until you have proof so you can corner them. That’s how it works."

  He hums. "Right." He gulps down the rest of his drink.

  I turn back to the ravens. They’ve settled down on the roof now. Speaking of Laura, she’s been nagging me for an hour straight, telling me how much of a dick I was to her sister and how I was being creepy at lunch. Was I really being that creepy? Maybe I should’ve watched my tone or thought about what I was saying. I know I should’ve been nicer, but I don’t feel good today. Laura went so far as to arrange for me and Annie to meet to sort things out and talk it over. It’s awkward to act like a couple now, but Laura wouldn’t leave me alone if I turned her down.

  I check my phone. A text from Annie says she’s heading to the fountain by the boys’ dorm to meet me. She probably thinks I’m going back to my room since I’m not in any club. I hope Jaiden doesn’t bring it up right now. I’m not ready for more guilt-trips.

  Jaiden punches me in the shoulder. "Why were you talking like that to Annie at lunch? You were creepy as fuck, man." He read my mind.

  "Chill. I’m sorting it out with her."

  "Sometimes you’re an asshole. You know that?"

  "I know."

  The phone in his hand buzzes, and he jumps up with a grin. Suddenly, his mood is light again. "Zoey texted. I gotta go."

  Of course it’s Zoey. That girl works magic on him. I don’t blame him, though; she’s hot, especially when she acts all tough and smart. I still can’t believe she agreed to join that stupid club with him. She’s also meeting up with him to go there together. Those two are getting along better than I thought. She’s warming up to everyone, except me; I still can’t hold a conversation with her for more than a minute.

  I call out to him before he can get too far, standing up as well. He turns around. "Watch out. I heard there’s some dude around here who wanders in the dark and chases after black boys."

  "Yeah, yeah, I'll make sure my ass is safe," he gestures with a hand, then walks off.

  I smile, watching him go. I can’t decide if I’m happy for them or if I hate how well they’re getting along.

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  I head over to the boys’ dorms and immediately spot Annie on a bench behind the fountain. She’s impossible to miss in that stupid purple-and-green Barney cheerleader outfit. She looks up as I get closer, then quickly looks away.

  "We need to hurry before the nuns see me at the boys’ dorm," she mumbles.

  I stand in front of her. "No one gives a fuck about the nuns right now."

  She looks up at me, her brown eyes narrowing against the sun’s glare. "Why did you ask to meet me here?"

  I sit down next to her. I’m not really sure how to start this; Laura’s been breathing down my neck to make things right and I don’t want to fuck it up even more. I take a deep breath, feeling a weird tightness in my chest as I look at her. She’s got a slight frown on her face.

  "Are you mad at me?" I ask.

  Her jaw clenches. She looks away, pressing her hands into the wood of the bench and slumping her shoulders.

  "We can talk it over," I say. "You don’t have to run away."

  She ducks her head and puffs out her cheeks. Her hair falls forward, hiding her face. Her silence is hard to deal with. I reach out and put a hand on hers.

  "Fine. I’m sorry, if that’s what you want to hear," I hold her hand loosely. "I just don’t want you to hate me."

  She finally looks up, and her eyes meet mine. She looks colder than I expected, more like distant or unbothered. She’s never been like this with me before.

  "Okay," she says.

  Okay? That’s all I get?

  "Annie, if you’re still mad, just say it."

  "I’m not," she mumbles, shaking her head. "Not anymore."

  My breathing finally goes back to normal. "Good." I try a smile. "I hope we can talk more and not run away from each other."

  She hums.

  "Maybe if you stop ghosting us for your new friends," I add, searching her eyes for that spark of attitude she usually has, but I can’t find it. "Seriously, you’re ghosting your friends for some guys you just met?"

  Her brows twitch. "I need a break."

  "From what?"

  "From everything going on here."

  I know there’s a big reason behind why she’s avoiding me and ghosting others, a reason that might make us break up. She doesn’t want to say it, and I won’t ask about it, at least now. I take her hand in both of mine, shifting closer to her on the bench. "I know everything is a mess right now, but we need to stick together until our job is over, no breaks."

  She pauses to catch a breath. "I have to go now." She stands up, pulling her hand away. "My practice is about to start."

  Before she can turn around, I grab her by the wrist. "You know I’m watching out for you because I care, right? You mean a lot to me."

  "I know."

  "Annie, I love you. You can talk to me instead of disappearing like that." I let go of her hand.

  She gives me a small smile and one final nod before walking away. I watch her go down the pebble path, her steps quick as she fades among the bushes and trees.

  Something is seriously off with her. She stopped blowing up my phone with texts, she isn't acting clingy anymore, and she didn't even say 'I love you' back. Does she like someone else? What other reason does she have to be this cold towards me? Even if she likes someone else, who would she love more than me?

  Across from the fountain, my eyes lock with another pair. A small girl is sitting there, holding a book that covers most of her face. Her blonde hair is blowing everywhere in the wind. As I focus on her, she pulls the book up even higher to hide her eyes. I must still be high, because there's no way she's been watching me this whole time without me noticing. Whatever. I need to get to the laundry room to pick up my clothes. It’s weird how a fancy school like this can’t afford to hire someone to do the laundry for us.

  I check my phone and see a text from Jaiden: "How did it go with Annie?"

  "Not bad," I text back. "You met up with Zoey?"

  "Yeah. She’s in the changing room now."

  "Why do you guys have a changing room?"

  He sends a selfie of him wearing what looks like denim overalls, a yellow t-shirt underneath and a straw hat. He looks funny, grinning like an idiot.

  "Fire," I text back.

  I look up and my eyes meet the girl’s again. The book shakes in her hands, almost slipping, but she snatches it back and hurries to pull it up over her face. Then, she slides it down slowly. Her eyes go wide when she sees me still looking in her direction, she yanks it back up.

  My fangirls can’t play it cool when they see me. I sigh. It seems I’m getting more popular in this place than I thought; I guess I’ll just have to brace myself for being everyone’s favorite.

  I go straight to the laundry room. The smell of detergent hits me, mixed with the sweat of a few guys already inside. The scent tickles my nose in a way that makes me feel even more buzzed than I did yesterday. I find my fresh, dry clothes and throw them into the basket with my name on it. Should I fold them now or deal with the wrinkles later? My phone rings. It's Jaiden.

  "Check this out," he whispers when I pick up.

  "What?"

  "What has a small dick and hangs down?"

  "Why are you whispering?"

  "Just guess."

  I think for a second. "I don’t know."

  "Bats. And what has a big dick and hangs up?"

  "You tell me."

  He hangs up. Seriously? Who told him he’s funny?

  I shake my head, toss my phone into the basket, and carry it outside. As soon as I step out, the girl with the book sprints around the corner. Girls aren’t even allowed here. What is she doing? I peek around the other way, and the boring woman at the front desk is nowhere to be seen. The girl peeks out from behind the wall. One blue eye blinks at me, and her blonde hair spills over her shoulder.

  "You want my number or something?" I call out.

  She sprints.

  "Wait!" I follow her, but stop when I see her standing in front of a taller guy with curly brown hair. He's wearing sports gear, probably football or soccer stuff.

  "What are you doing here?" The guy pinches her cheek and speaks in a cheesy way.

  "Nothing," she says, her voice soft.

  I take a few steps back but keep them in my sight, holding on to my laundry basket. I watch the taller guy mess with her. He is too comfortable getting physical; messing with her hair and nudging her shoulder. She doesn’t seem to mind. He’s laughing and she’s squeaking, throwing her hands up even though she can only reach his shoulders. He flinches slightly and takes her weak blows. She looks adorable trying to act tough, but the guy looks like a fool, too full of himself and trying hard to be cool.

  A tap on my shoulder distracts me. I turn around and see a smiley face with glasses and a set of shiny braces—the gossip king of the school. He’s sick today and skipped class, but that didn’t save anyone from his sharp tongue. I ran into him this morning and he spilled his guts without even asking. I don’t know how, but this guy knows everything about everyone, down to the silliest and weirdest details.

  I pause, trying to remember his name. "Chris, right?" I smile back, and he nods. "How are you feeling?"

  "I’m good," he says. "How’s your leg?"

  I look back at the tall guy and the girl. They’re heading toward the back gate. Chris takes a step closer, following my gaze.

  "That guy is always surrounded by girls," Chris comments. "But what can I say? He owns this place."

  "Who's he?" I ask, watching him grab the girl’s thin arm and pull her close as they walk away.

  "Vincent," Chris says. "You don't want to stand in his way. If he takes your girl, go find another one. That’s how he is."

  The girl looks back as they reach the trees by the gate. Her pace slows for a second as our eyes meet again. The laundry basket feels heavier all of a sudden, or maybe my hands are going numb. Vincent says something to her, forcing her to jog to catch up, and then they disappear from my sight. That asshole.

  "I always envy him. Everyone does," Chris sighs. "He’s got money, status, looks, girls—"

  "He doesn’t look that good." I turn and head toward the elevator.

  Chris strides along beside me, he grins. "I’m sure you’ll be more popular than him soon. Just wait until everyone finds out your dad runs billion-dollar companies."

  I give him a dry smile as he pushes the elevator button for me. "Of course."

  "I’ll be out sunbathing if you want to know anything else," he says, waving as I step into the elevator with my basket.

  "See you."

  The doors slide shut on his nerdy face. I need to clear my head before I deal with Chris. He’s clingy and he talks too much, but he can watch people for me. Although we only met this morning, he’d do anything for me without a second thought. I’m putting him off until I’m in the right headspace to use him. I’ve got other things to deal with, and with the game only a couple of hours away, I need to get my head straight so I don’t fuck up again.

  I turn the key in the lock of my room, open the door and freeze. Kisses are printed all over my mirror, my books, my bed sheets, and my clothes. All my clothes—worn and clean—are across the bed and floor, smeared with red lipstick.

  "What the fuck?" I drop my basket and immediately take a look in the corridor. It’s empty. I thought Zoey was nuts when she said someone broke into her room, but it's just happened to me now as well.

  I check the keyhole and the knob. They look fine, not busted or scratched. There’s supposed to be one key for every room, right? If that’s true, how did someone get in without mine? It’s been in my pocket all morning. I shut the door and lock it behind me, then start looking through the room, checking to see if anything’s missing. Everything is exactly where it should be: my money in the drawer, the diamond ring in its box in the closet, the drugs, and the alcohol bottle I have stashed under the bed. Nothing was stolen.

  But something is off, besides the kisses. The room looks cleaner than how I left it this morning. There are no papers or used tissues on the floor and the trash bin is empty. The room smells weird, too. It’s not a bad smell, but it’s not mine. I know my own scents and creams, and this is not one of them.

  I stand among the mess. If I had to take a wild guess, whoever did this did it to piss me off. If I had to take another guess, I was being watched this morning. They waited for me to leave, broke in, and spent their time kissing every inch of this place, and my clothes as well.

  I already have a theory. I can see exactly how this went down, but I’m not going to act on it yet. For everyone’s sake. I know for sure it wasn't that nun I met yesterday, or anyone with half a brain. It was someone too stupid to realize they were making it obvious.

  I reach down and rub a kiss mark on a white shirt lying on my bed. The red stains my thumb. It doesn’t have a scent, but when I rub my fingers together, it smudges and sticks. It doesn’t come off, even when I try to wipe it on a tissue.

  I head into the bathroom to wash it with soap, but I see something on the mirror.

  A big, red Fuck You, surrounded by tiny red hearts, and XOXO.

  No need to guess who's the intruder anymore.