Trick Me Twice - Becca Steele Page 0,22

new post. Almost all the posts were anonymous, but this one had been posted by Carter Blackthorne himself, giving it instant credibility in the eyes of the students reading it.

WHAT HAS RAINE LAURENT BEEN UP TO?

The question was written over an image taken in the gym changing rooms, if the background was anything to go by. Slightly unfocused and grainy, it depicted a girl with hair more or less identical to mine, her head level with the crotch of a guy that I vaguely recognised from the football team. The first thought that ran through my head was, who was giving him a blowjob in school? Then, I gritted my teeth as the outrage hit me, followed by nausea churning in my stomach.

“Seriously? Is he for real?”

“What the fuck is his problem?” Lena hissed.

“Silence! Miss Drummond, this is your one and only warning.” Mr. Hicks gave her a stern warning, and she rolled her eyes but stopped talking.

I opened her phone to a new message and started typing furiously. I couldn’t get her involved. It wouldn’t be worth my time. If she put pressure on Carter, or tried to, he’d just fuck with me out of school, or in places Lena couldn’t reach.

Don’t do anything. Please. Let me handle this.

She read it with a frown and shook her head.

Please. I need to fight my own battles.

“I guess I can understand that,” she whispered. “But say the word, and I will fuck him up.”

Her impassioned promise on my behalf sent a flutter of warmth through me, dulling my outrage, and I couldn’t help a tiny, grateful smile at her determination. “Thanks.”

“Miss Drummond, Miss Laurent.” My head flew up to see Mr. Hicks, his mouth set in a flat line. “See me after class.”

Great.

The rest of the morning I did my best to ignore the whispers that followed me everywhere, the attention almost unbearable. People who had never given me the time of day before were openly staring, gossiping about me as if I was the latest source of entertainment. As my discomfort grew, so did my anger at Carter, until I felt like I was about to explode.

When lunchtime rolled around, I hid away in the huge library, and instead of heading to the English class that I shared with Carter in the afternoon, I stayed tucked into a tiny alcove in the archives. I tried to bury myself in my textbooks, but after my phone buzzed for what felt like the hundredth time, I finally gave in and opened my notifications.

I shouldn’t have looked.

Texts from unknown numbers, and comments on the AHS gossip site photo…all negative.

Who the fuck is Raine Laurent?

Didn’t realise he was that desperate

Hope he didn’t get an STD from her diseased mouth

WHORE

I’d give you a tenner to suck my dick

If you want a real man, text 06817332111

The afternoon seemed endless. I didn’t make it to any of my other classes, remaining hidden among the books. As soon as the bell rang to announce the end of the school day, I gathered up my things and escaped to the theatre. Being pretty much in charge of costume design, and getting close to the dress rehearsal stage, I had to be on hand for alterations, and I still had to finish sewing the additional outfits for the lead characters.

Dylan paused, paintbrush in hand, to throw me a sympathetic glance, giving me a hesitant wave from his position balanced precariously on a ladder in front of a partially painted backdrop on the stage. I returned his wave, continuing on to the backstage area and into the room where the costumes were kept. Sinking down into the seat in front of the large drafting table, I finally took a breath. Being in the one place in this school that I loved soothed me, and I felt myself relax in tiny increments as I lost myself in my needlework.

“Hold still…” I mumbled through a mouthful of pins, as I carefully tacked the fabric around Imogen, our lead actress. I finished pinning it into place then stepped back, eyeing her critically. “Hmm. I think maybe I’ll bring the hem up another inch. What do you think?”

She eyed herself in the full-length mirror, all shiny jet-black hair, porcelain skin, and small, delicate features. Her brows pulled together. “Hold it up?” Even her voice was sweet. How she’d managed to gain queen bee status in our school, I’d never know. I suppose it didn’t hurt that her parents were diplomats, her older brother was a