I remember that I filed away a note in the back of my brain: ask Mitch if he knows Kali is cheating on him. Bet he doesn’t. Bet Kali didn’t think she’d see me alive ever again after that Friday.
I keep smiling at her as I slide into my seat and she shivers like I’ve just creeped her the fuck out. Good. Maybe she can sense how done I am with her crap? Shit, how done I am with everyone’s crap.
For a long time, I tried to be the good guy. I tried so fucking hard. Then I was stomped into the ground for that trust, that belief. Not anymore. Nobody wanted to hear my side of the story, nobody cared. So I became somebody. Now somebody does care. I’ll protect Heather and Ms. Keating and girls like Alyssa Hart.
“What are you looking at?” Kali finally snaps, interrupting Mr. Darkwood’s lecture. Oh, and also, she’s the one who’s craning her neck around to look at me.
“Cry 'Havoc!,' and let slip the dogs of war!” I yell, cupping my hands around my mouth before I let out a wild-sounding howl. It takes a second, but four other students in the class do the same, cupping their hands around their mouths and howling.
Less than a minute later, I can hear the call echoing down the hallways, until the entire school is engulfed in the sounds of Havoc.
Callum is howling on the front steps of the school when I come down the hall after my last class of the day. In just a few seconds, dozens of other students call back to him. He turns to me with a flashy grin, gold afternoon sunshine making him look like a fucking kid for a minute. The sight throws me off, I won’t lie.
“I hear you came up with this genius,” Cal says as I pause beside him. He doesn’t seem at all concerned about our day, filled with cops and detectives and prying young women named Sara Young. She’s the one I’m most afraid of here. Callum tucks his blue-painted fingernails into the front pocket of his sleeveless hoodie. It’s black with a bright-white skeleton pattern. The only color in his clothes at all is a small red heart printed over his real one. “So simple, but easy to freak people out with.”
“You’re so creepy,” I tease, taking up the group mantle of picking on Cal for his weirdness. He was kinda preppy before all of this, you know? “But also, what’s the plan today and why don’t I ever know it in advance?”
“Well, for one,” Callum teases, taking a sly step toward me, both hands still shoved deep into his pocket. He leans in so close that I can smell his bubblegum. It’s blue and it’s coated his tongue, turning that pretty pink mouth into something morbid. “You never check the group chat.”
“Yes, I do!” I snap back, yanking my phone out and seeing Victor’s last message. After class, get the girls, hit the garage. I look up to find Cal smirking at me. “Not fair, that text is from three minutes ago.”
“Sure it is, but that’s how Vic always makes his plans. Last minute. Text or bitching—his only two methods of delivery.” I give Cal a look and he chuckles. When he laughs, his eyes crinkle. I love that about him.
“Do you have dance today?” I ask and he gives a very small, very slight shake of his head. When he leans in toward me, I can smell that sharp, bright scent of his, like talc and aftershave and soap.
“Not today,” Callum breathes against the side of my neck like he might kiss me, but stands up at the last second so he can nod at Hael instead. Cal grabs a handful of brightly colored Skittles from his pocket, spits his gum into the trash can, and then shoves the candy in his mouth. “You look happy today.”
“Well,” Hael crows, grinning so big his face looks like it might fall off. “I’m stilling riding the high of finding out that I’m not tied to Brittany fucking Burr for eighteen years.” He laughs again and then pauses when several junior girls waltz by, flipping their hair and letting their short skirts flutter in the breeze.
“Hey Harbin, we hear you narrowly escaped knocking-up a Fuller High bitch,” the first one calls, and I vaguely recognize her from Billie Charter’s circle. She’s in their crew, no doubt.