Trick Me Twice - Becca Steele Page 0,63
scene in front of me. Painted in savage black slashes, the word “slut” had been sprayed in capitals across my locker door. And taped right at the bottom was a printout of a photo. Slightly grainy, but clear.
Me, reclining backwards on the desk at the warehouse, covered in paint with my top ripped in half, exposing my bra, and Carter, with his head between my legs. Above the image someone had written in black marker pen “Football team slut scores again.”
No.
My hands shaking, I ripped the photo down from my locker, crumpling it in my hand, and made a run for it. Straight into the library, where I hid myself in the furthest alcove and finally let my tears free.
I didn’t know how much time passed, but eventually my tears stopped. Wiping under my swollen eyes, I breathed deeply in and out, trying to regain a semblance of calm. Then, I did probably the worst thing I could do. I opened my phone to the AHS gossip account.
My fears were proven correct. The image was there, too, plus another of me kissing Carter. The accompanying caption said:
RAINE LAURENT HAS BEEN A BUSY GIRL. LOOKS LIKE THE FOOTBALL TEAM SLUT SCORED THE ULTIMATE PRIZE - THE TEAM CAPTAIN. SHE’S BEEN HARD UP FOR CASH SINCE HER UNCLE LEFT, SO THE QUESTION IS, HOW MUCH DID HE PAY HER?
I couldn’t even bring myself to look at the comments. My stomach rolled with nausea, followed by outrage. As if Carter would ever need to pay anyone for anything sexual. Why was that my first thought? The second thing that crossed my mind was the fact that the room we were in had been locked. Which meant that someone had planned this. Had Carter planned it? But why would he implicate himself? He was always careful never to be seen with me around school. But who else would have a reason to do this? One thing I was sure about though—whoever was targeting me, and whatever reason they had, I knew it had to have something to do with Carter.
There was only one thing I could do. I needed to confront him.
I made my way through the silent hallways, back to my locker. Staring at the huge word “SLUT,” I steeled myself, and then I opened the door. Inside, everything was untouched, which I was beyond grateful for. Now I just had to make it through the rest of the day, and I could escape. This was going to be painful, though.
The sound of heels on the floor alerted me that I wasn’t alone. “Ah, Raine, there you are.” I turned around to see Mrs. Rushton, school secretary, standing behind me with a folder clasped in her hands. “The headmaster would like to see you in his office, please.”
My stomach sank. This had to be about my locker.
As I followed her in the direction of the office, I felt a prickling sensation down my spine. Someone was watching me.
When I turned around, there was no one there. The hallway was completely silent and empty.
Hurrying to catch up with Mrs. Rushton, I brushed it off as my wild imagination. After everything that had happened at the party, and my subsequent nightmares, it wasn’t really a surprise that I was so jumpy.
Seated in a buttery-soft leather chair, I looked across the large mahogany desk at Professor Sharpe, attempting not to let my nerves show. The one and only time I’d been in the headmaster’s office was after my uncle had divorced my aunt, and there was a question of how my remaining school fees would be paid. Thankfully my uncle had come through in the end, although he was going to be washing his hands of me once the school year ended, which meant relying on student loans for my university education. I still felt the sting of the betrayal, that he’d thrown a twenty-year marriage with my aunt away for an affair with his work colleague, and had moved in with her at the first possible opportunity. His new family was his priority now, and he’d essentially lost all sense of responsibility towards me. My aunt had been devastated, but lately, she seemed herself again. And I actually had Carter’s parents to thank for that in part, because they’d been there for her while she picked up the pieces.
My thoughts returned to the present as Professor Sharpe cleared his throat, eyeing me carefully from behind his glasses. He was a tall, imposing figure, with grey,