Chapter 36

Iavoided my room after school. My wrists were already stinging, and I didn't have any more figurines to paint. I was lying on the couch, tuning in and out of Teen Mom, when there was a knock. I never answered the door, but I scrambled across the living room before Chris could even deliberate if he had heard something from his bedroom.

I swung the door open, almost choking on my own heartbeat, but I wasn't met by Hunter standing on the other side of it. Hudson stared back at me, and he looked as disappointed as I felt.

I glanced at the street and back at him as though expecting someone else to pop out from behind our front bushes. "Um. Hi?"

He didn't bother with a greeting. "Got a minute?"

I hesitated. "Uh, sure." I opened the door wider. "You want to come in?"

He peeked past me. "Not particularly."

He turned around and bounded down the three front steps as if I was expected to follow. I gritted my teeth but still grabbed my coat, rolling my eyes as I closed the storm door behind me.

Unlike Hunter, he wore a brown corduroy coat, but his black jeans were the same. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, then stared at me as if he'd already lost all his patience. "What happened?"

I swallowed. "What do you mean?"

His gaze hardened. "Stupidity doesn't suit you, Alice."

"You're a real asshole, you know that?"

He shrugged, not caring either way. "What happened?"

I looked away from him. "Why don't you go ask Hunter?"

He took a step closer. "Because I'm asking you."

I had no idea how much he knew, but even if I did, it wouldn't have mattered. "We broke up." It felt weird to say it out loud. We'd never specified we were together, but we were.

His eyes narrowed, and the longer he studied my face, the more irritated he became. "So that's just it then?"

I wrapped my arms around myself. "I guess."

And then he was even closer, breathing down on me with far too much indignation. "I thought you were different, Alice."

I took a half step back. "You don't even like me!"

Instead of denying it, he squinted at me. "What does that have to do with anything?"

I threw my hands up. "Because why do you even care?"

He stared at me as though maybe stupidity did suit me after all. "Because unlike you, I care about him. And unlike you—"

The storm door closed with a slam, and Chris stood on the front step in his sweatpants and socks, eyeing us. "Hi there. Couldn't help but overhear." His voice was light as he leaned against the railing. He wasn't wearing a coat, and he folded his arms across his gray T-shirt.

Hudson froze, staring at Chris, and out of nowhere, his cheeks went pink.

Chris smiled. "I hope you're not being a dickhead to my sister."

"It's fine, Chris," I mumbled.

Hudson forced the words out. "We were having a conversation."

Chris gestured forward with a small bow. "Well, carry on then." But he remained where he was, watching us.

Hudson turned back to me. "I ... um ... I should go."

"Aw," Chris said. "Don't go. Whatever will we do without your lovely company? I don't know about you, Alice, but I know I won't be the same without this guy. It's almost too much to bear, really."

Hudson went still. His eyes widened as he stared at Chris, but then he blinked several times as though to steady himself. He opened his mouth but closed it and walked away instead.

I watched him go, and when I turned back to Chris, he was grinning. "Okay," he said, "on a scale of one to father-with-a-shotgun, how badass was that?"

I frowned.

"I totally rattled him! Did you see his face? I scared the shit out of him!"

My eyes narrowed as I watched Hudson. "Yeah, I don't think you rattled him in the way you think you did," I said, shuffling up the steps.

Chris's face fell as I shoved my coat into the front closet. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," I muttered.

I started making my way upstairs.

"Who even was that? What happened with you and Hunter?"

I kept going.

"Alice!"

"Nothing," I called back, slamming my bedroom door shut behind me.

* * *

My locker hada fresh coat of paint the next day, but the following morning, W-H-O-R-E glittered back at me. It was embarrassing enough, but more embarrassing that the janitor would be called to paint over the cruelty for the second time in three days.

When I slipped out of second period, I passed Hunter's locker to ensure there weren't any new pictures, breathing a sigh of relief because his locker remained plain steel blue. I'd returned to his locker after gym two mornings prior, intending to take the rest of the pictures down, but they were already gone. Maybe it was the same janitor. Maybe it was a teacher sniffing out high school brutality. I didn't know who it was, but my skin prickled with heat because in those pictures, I was a slut, and I hated that someone had the evidence.

I made my way to the cafeteria and scanned the room for an empty table. I'd expected Hunter to abandon the cafeteria altogether, settling instead on chain-smoking cigarettes outside, but he was still there, hunched over in his corner. I eyed a table in the opposite corner, so far on the outskirts of popularity it was as abandoned as Hunter's. I focused straight ahead as I passed my old table. Scott lounged in the middle, watching me with a twisted grin.

"There goes the slut," Suzanne said, her voice drifting from the table. Margo was seated next to her, passive and amused, while Casey's careful gaze was focused elsewhere. There were others there too, and they turned around in entertainment. I'd become everyone's favorite pastime.

"How about a blowjob, Alice? I hate seeing your mouth wasted on the school psycho." The voice was low and criminal, edged with sleaziness. He hovered on the fringes of Scott's usual crew. He had dark hair that was slicked back and a sharp nose. Unlike the rest of the table, he leaned back in his chair as if he was trying too hard to perfect the laid-back position. His eyes darted to Scott's friends, and he smiled, pleased with himself when everyone cracked up with laughter.

Except for Scott. He didn't laugh, and for some reason, that infuriated me more than anything else. The words slammed into me, and my pulse took off at a violent pace, rattling my brain until I blinked stars. Why wasn't he laughing? His eyebrows drew together, and the corner of his lips dipped into a frown, but that wasn't even the worst part. He eyed me with a certain softness, almost as though he was contemplating defending me.

I clenched my fists at my sides. Normally I felt terror when he turned his attention on me, but this was different. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Scott's eyes widened in surprise, and just like that, the softness was gone. "You better keep walking, love."

I didn't move.

Everyone else had grown silent, and he cocked his head, watching me with amusement. "Is there something you want to say?"

I didn't know if it was the rage still coursing through me or if it was a gradual slip into insanity. "You don't want to hear what I have to say."

* * *

I atemy lunch in silence, concentrating on the table in front of me. I opted to follow Hunter's lead and work on my homework. I heard the clicking of heels, louder and louder, and I smelled her expensive perfume before she even sat down. I'd been with her when she bought it at Macy's, both of us spritzing our wrists at the mirrored counter. Margo never ventured anywhere without her posse, and I glanced around, preparing for an ambush, but she was alone.

She dropped into the seat across from me. "You and I need to have a little chat."

I sighed, waiting for her to continue.

"Did you like our gifts?"

I rolled my eyes, because of course Margo was behind the letters on my locker. "Loved them. Very creative. Thanks for that. I'm guessing Hunter's locker was you too?"

It made sense. If anyone had that picture, it was Margo. After all, she was the one who had taken it, but her eyes narrowed. "Why the hell would I hang up a shit-ton of photos of you with my boyfriend?"

I shrugged. Maybe she had a point, but it didn't really matter. I opened my math textbook and thumbed to the right page. I hoped she would drift away, but she didn't move.

"Stay away from Scott," she said.

"Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious. I see the way you look at him."

I stared at her in disbelief. Margo was the only person in the entire school who could truly make sense of my hatred. Beyond Hunter even. And I knew we weren't friends anymore, but her heartlessness cut the inside of me worse than Hunter's rejection. In that moment, I thought I might hit her. Maybe shove her to the floor, and then, for once, I'd be smirking down at her. But I did one better.

My lips curled into a cruel smile as I leaned closer, intent on injuring her no matter the cost. "He'll never like you like he likes me."

Her eyes widened as she gazed back at me.

"It's pathetic to watch, you know. Making out with him in the cafeteria, clinging onto him at parties, begging him to hang out with you and invite you to things. Every time you look away, who do you think he seeks out? And it's because you're way too desperate. Do you want to know how you get him to look at you like he looks at me?"

Her breath grew heavier. For once, she didn't interject.

I held her gaze, unrelenting. "Be more unwilling."

Her inhale was sharp, and then her eyes narrowed. "You're such a lying cunt."

I ignored her, sliding my finger to the first problem as I copied it into my notebook. Not one to be outdone, she slammed my book closed. I yanked my hand out with a hiss of pain, but she wasn't fazed.

"Do you remember back in ninth grade when you slept over, and we tried smoking weed for the first time on my balcony?" she asked.

Of course I remembered that night. It had to have been April, and the air was still nipping cold, but we sat there anyway, wrapped in blankets with our legs dangling over the edge. We'd been drinking too. We snuck into her parents' liquor cabinet, then squatted in the dark as we rifled through clinking bottles. I remembered unscrewing the caps so we could sniff the inside, but it only made us sputter and cough. We stole an entire amber-colored bottle, and no one ever even noticed.

"It was right after you turned all emo," she went on, "and you launched into some bullshit about how you'd thought about killing yourself. We were so shit-faced you probably thought I didn't remember, but I do."

I stared at her, and she lifted one shoulder, looking away from me, but when her gaze returned, her eyes were hot with hatred. "Sometimes I wish I would have told you to just go ahead and do it."