Clique Bait - Ann Valett Page 0,38

been used on one of the Level Ones.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t quite the one I needed. It was just Zach. He was at the center of a small crowd of people. I was ready to continue my search when I heard his voice over the crowd.

“Just because you’re gay doesn’t mean I need to talk to you,” he said loudly, amusement clear in his tone.

I squinted, trying to identify the guy in front of him. Max Heath, a Level Four at best. A short boy whose parents were new money and had chosen to spend his hefty allowance on collectable vintage video games instead of designer labels. It showed with his bland ill-fitting wardrobe and terrible posture. What he was doing at a party like this, I had no clue.

Max was almost toe-to-toe with Zach, and by now I could see Maddy nearby ogling the situation.

“Did you hear me? Get out of my face, dude.”

I couldn’t see Max’s expression, but from the looks of the partygoers, I could tell he was probably mortified. Had he advanced on Zach? It would be a bold move. Zach was royalty, and Max was openly disliked.

“Chloe.”

William startled me, catching my attention just as the Level Four boy backed away.

“Is everything okay?” he asked. He looked toward the commotion. The people gathered were now dispersing.

I nodded once, but hoped he’d still get the clue that I needed him.

“What’s up?” he asked, his voice low and slightly slurred with alcohol.

“Francis knew that I knew because Maddy said something. Lola’s pissed and—” I took a deep breath. “I stole a girl’s phone.”

William eyebrows raised. “A phone?”

“It was a dare.”

Just as I was speaking, William’s attention was diverted to something over my shoulder. Lola had emerged from the hall, her makeup now freshly touched up and any evidence of tears long gone. Her strap had been removed completely, showing off even more skin than before. Her dark eyes were locked intently with William’s, pulling out a whirlwind of conflicting feelings from my chest.

I was pissed. God, he was too good for her. I knew that now. From the week we’d spent in this fake relationship I knew that his soul couldn’t possibly be as tainted as hers. How could she have a hold on him? And why did it make me so angry?

William placed an arm almost possessively around my waist, knocking me from my enraged thoughts. His eyes didn’t drop from Lola as he pulled me closer to him. I was surprised that his touch caused a wave of heat to roll over me—probably from the alcohol I’d drunk.

I reminded myself he was trying to make her jealous. Using me to make her jealous. But even that thought excited me.

I studied his face, his moss-colored eyes still fixed on hers across the room. I didn’t see affection or adoration within them. They were hard and cold, conflicted and vengeful, as if he wished his gaze could hurt its recipient in the way she was clearly hurting him.

His eyes found mine and softened. Maybe I imagined it. I felt an unfamiliar pull to move my head closer to his. But I stopped myself. I couldn’t.

As time seemed to slow, his fingertips brushed my cheek, and before I knew it our lips collided.

Thirteen

Mon,

Guilt is eating me alive. I can’t believe what I’ve done. It’s like I’ve lost my moral compass since you left. Sometimes I feel like I’m really turning into Level One. That’s stupid, isn’t it? After what they did to you?

Though secretly, I will admit, I wonder if you’d have liked me better if I was more like them. You wouldn’t have chosen them over me. This wouldn’t have happened.

Love, Chloe

IN THAT MOMENT, I hated William Bishop.

My fingers scrunched around the fabric of his shirt where they had been resting between our chests. It took every piece of my willpower not to push him away—to shove him into the hordes of people around us and then slap him in the face.

Logically, this was a good thing. A great thing. Lola’s jealousy—though dangerous—might be the perfect weapon to help bring her down. Only, I couldn’t squash the childish part of me freaking out at William’s lips on mine. I’d never kissed anyone before, and I hadn’t exactly anticipated it to happen because of a fake relationship, and certainly not to make someone jealous.

My brain was screaming at me to end the kiss, to nudge him lightly, to giggle nervously and slap his shoulders in a way that wouldn’t raise