to…to what? Stop his illicit affair with our teacher? Turn her in to the authorities or even just the principal?
“But you don’t, baby. You really don’t.” He squeezes his eyelids shut, and before I can even respond, he smashes his fist into the wall. It does nothing to cement, but his fingers come away bruised and bloody.
“Fucking hell!”
“If I fail her class, I don’t get my scholarship,” he whispers, and I remember from my research that he got accepted into Juilliard for guitar. “And if I don’t fuck her, I don’t get my A. So no, you don’t understand.”
I understand more than you can possibly believe.
Cassian’s face closes down when he sees the rebuttal on my face. With an enraged roar, he kicks at the nearest wall before stomping away, cradling his injured hand to his chest. I watch him go, feeling my heart shatter into thousands of pieces, all of them smaller than the sprinkles you would put on ice cream.
What Cassian is doing destroys something inside of you. Destroys a tiny portion of your soul you can never get back.
And if anyone is going to destroy Cassian, it’s going to me, not that bitch.
Trembling slightly, I pull my phone out of my pocket and swipe to the video of Mrs. Town and Cassian on that first day. And then, I head towards the principal’s office.
Cassian might never forgive me for what I’m about to do, but I didn’t come here wanting his friendship.
I came here to destroy him.
But maybe this time, my method of destroying him might actually save his soul.
Chapter 25
I have a date.
Tonight.
With Emmett.
My heart gives a girly little scream, throwing confetti in the air and writing his name and mine repeatedly in my internal notebook. But then that confetti turns into bouts of blood and our names contort, transforming into some demonic summoning ritual.
And though I should be focusing on Emmett, and only on Emmett, my mind repeatedly drifts back to my confrontation with Cassian, followed by my trip to the principal’s office where I showed him the video.
My hands are slick with sweat as I think about what I did. He’s going to hate me. I know that. I accepted that. But…
“Peony?” Nana’s head appears at the top of the ladder, her vibrant violet hair visible in the dim light. “Mariabella is here.”
“I’ll be right down,” I say as I peruse my selection of dresses for the hundredth time. Do I go casual? Flirty? Fun? According to Emmett, after dinner, we’re heading to a party at Jessica Simmon’s house. What would someone wear to a house party?
When Nana doesn’t immediately retreat, I turn towards her with an eyebrow raised. “Yeah?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you’re going on a date?” she demands, sounding genuinely upset.
“Because it just happened today.” I grab a few different outfits at random, slinging them over my arms, before grabbing my makeup case and curling iron out of my trunk. The rest of my supplies are already in the bathroom.
“It’s with that one boy, isn’t it?” Nana gushes as I gesture for her to climb down the ladder. I follow after her, dropping my clothes and items unceremoniously onto the ground so I don’t need to carry them as I descend.
“What boy?” I query once my feet land on the wooden flooring.
“The one with the purple highlights.” Nana grins mischievously. “I see the way he looks at you, Peony. I always knew it was a matter of time.”
I swear my body’s internal temperature ratchets up a billion degrees. I can feel flames fan my cheeks as I bend down and grab my discarded items.
“No,” I protest. “It’s not him.”
“Oh.” Nana frowns. “Well, I guess…have fun tonight?” Her words turn into a question, and I just barely resist the urge to roll my eyes. “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“That’s a pretty short list,” I tease as I move down the hall and towards the foyer where I see Mariabella’s sheet of golden hair. “I might need a microscope to read it.”
“Oh, ha. Ha.” Nana swats my arm playfully. “You can be such a brat sometimes, you know that?”
“And you’re a wrinkled, old hag,” I retort, and she gasps, placing both her hands over her cheeks.
“I am no such thing!”
Mariabella turns towards us when we enter, a wide smile unfurling on her face.
“Peony!” She races forward and grabs me in a tight hug, before releasing me and turning towards Nana respectfully. “You must be Mrs. Simone.”
“Please, call me Cardinal.” Nana extends