before landing on the beam. But my ankle wobbled since I didn’t bend at the knee when I landed to absorb the shock. I fell off the beam, and my knees hit the mat.
“Dammit,” I hissed. But even the fall felt good because it had only been caused by me.
Coach Michaels was soon beside me, helping me up with a scowl on his face. “You’re getting rusty, but you’re still the best damn gymnast in my club. Keep some clothes in your locker, and I’ll look the other way if you want to come back tomorrow during study period.” I grimaced when my ankle gave a little twinge when I stood, but my expression turned into a beaming smile at his words. “And put some ice on that, Livingston.”
“Yes, Coach.”
Chapter Four
It was two days later, and I was relieved when last bell rang, freeing me from the constant press of unwelcome looks and jeering words. I’d texted my driver and told him that I wanted to walk home today. It was a risk, since any of the students of Smith Academy could have stopped to fuck with me. The last time I walked home, someone spun the tires of their daddy’s mercedes in the mud, getting it all over me. But today, I didn’t care. The crisp fall air taunted me. I wanted to walk off some of the anxiety in my soul and let my scars breathe for a little bit.
The downtown Savannah strip bustled with businessmen in their southern best, and college students walked by with bright smiles. My feet led the way. I didn’t consciously know where I was going, but the moment I saw the rusted and abandoned train tracks long out of use, I sighed in relief.
There was still a bit of magic in that place—still a bit of hope. That spot grounded me. It was filled with memories, and every track of metal felt nostalgic. I let myself relax for the first time today, and breathed in the smell of dirt and dust. Those train tracks used to be our special spot. Our little group might have stopped going there, but I couldn’t bring myself to give up that place that I loved.
“What are you doing here?” a low voice grumbled, startling me.
I turned away from the tree where we’d carved our initials when we were kids, and I frowned when I saw Godfrey Taylor leaning against the rough bark, smoking a joint. He was wearing his signature aviators, smiling at me, the wide grin highlighting the subtle stubble on his face.
Godfrey came from a long line of lawyers. His father owned one of the most profitable firms in the south. He could get away with anything, and usually did. He was known to get off the most notorious criminals, ensuring they walked.
I steeled myself. “You know that I always loved this place,” I said defensively. I didn’t want to give this up, too.
Godfrey was usually the only one in Savannah’s elite circle that still talked to me. Maybe because our parents had high hopes that we’d someday marry and combine empires. But it was probably because he liked to keep me on my toes.
“Heard Stephanie fucked with that pretty face of yours,” he commented while walking towards me, frowning when he got a good look. “Looks like you’re healing,” he said, eyeing my lip that was now scabbed over.
I crossed my arms, and he tossed me a smirk before continuing. “Stephanie bragged about it before she sucked my cock in eighth period. She slid up and down real nice for me,” he said tauntingly. “The high of y’alls fight made her teeth chatter.”
And just like that, I was reminded once again that Godfrey and I weren’t friends. I really should remember that.
Godfrey saw the change in my expression, saw me about to shut him out, and immediately, his eyes glittered with challenge. Because he was Godfrey, he wouldn’t just let it be. Unlike the other Heirs who outright tormented me, he seemed to get some sick satisfaction from the constant push and pull. He liked toying with my emotions. I just wish it didn’t work.
He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me into a hug, and I let him. With my face pressed against his chest, I could smell her on him. It was her sickly-sweet, ridiculously expensive perfume that she always spritzed in the locker room. It made me want to puke.
I should’ve pushed him away. I should’ve turned around and