Sweet Like Revenge

30 - All Men Must Die

As I watched the marching band circle around the gymnasium during Monday's pep rally, I finally understood the dirty looks that the student body would throw us way back when I was still in the troop.

The band was loud.

It was brash.

It was... irritatingly peppy.

And, honestly, I was not in the mood.

Rather, I was a bubble of anxiety that was having a hard enough time making it through the last few minutes of the school day without the loud clang of symbols or the brassy screech of a trumpet piercing my skull.

What followed the band, though, was no better.

Principal Walsh took to the stage, gushing about how the football team had made it to the region semi-finals in what was shaping up to be a record-breaking season.

"A feat near impossible," he raved, his speech descending into the world's cringiest love letter, "without the valiant efforts of our captain, Astor Black."

"Jesus." Sienna groaned, giving Astor the side-eye as he relished in the praise that erupted throughout the gymnasium at the mere mention of his name. "You'd think they were going off to war or something."

"Cheer up, buttercup," Astor retorted, a wicked grin spread across his obnoxiously pleased face. "This is a pep rally, after all."

Sienna turned to match his smile, hers as phony as his was arrogant. "Fuck you," she cooed.

Astor winked. "If you must."

Even from two seats away, I could practically feel Sienna's body shiver in unabashed disgust. It seemed that a strong aversion to Astor Black was at least one thing that the two of us had in common.

Sienna and Astor's standoffs and staredowns were a lot more common now that Poppy spent most of the school day, bar lunch, with the eleventh graders. Actually, Poppy being put back a grade had done a lot for our little group's dynamic. For one thing, Astor's stolen glances at the other girls and I were far less 'stolen'. For another, Sienna tried even less to hide her distaste for her best friend's boyfriend.

"Did Ryan get home okay?" Kat whispered through the droning of Walsh's speech.

The mention of Ana's best friend did nothing to ease my anxiety.

"He did," I confirmed. "I'm glad that you two hit it off. I thought you might."

She nodded fervently. "Oh, we totally did. We talked for hours about Beyoncé and the Kardashians and Kylie's new eyeshadow palette. Honestly, Elle, he's the perfect guy. I almost can't believe that you let him go."

I attempted to smile as I nodded at her sentiment, but finding the energy to lie on an empty stomach was hard. Note to self: the next time that you blow off lunch to hack into the school's computer system, bring a snack.

"If you love Ryan so much," Matt grumbled from behind us, "maybe you should marry him."

If it wasn't Astor listening in on our not-so-private conversations that afternoon, it was Matt. In fact, the two of them had been keeping a rather close eye on me all day. It was clear that they were trying to establish what — if anything — was going on between the football captain and me. Astor, especially, traced his gaze over me whenever he thought that I wasn't watching, so many questions swimming in his devilish eyes; did we? Didn't we? Was it all a dream?

It felt good to be the one who kept people guessing.

"Almost done." Chontelle looked at the clock, counting down the time just as I'd been doing ever since leaving the office earlier that afternoon. "Five minutes from freedom."