Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,128
Vic telling me not to touch the damn thing without Hael’s permission, but he doesn’t seem bothered by me leaning against it.
“Thank you for what?” Vic says as he notices the still-smoking trash can sitting next to the dumpster.
“Ms. Keating found a box of everything Principal Vaughn had on you guys from over the years: reports of bullying, vandalism, violence. He had a freaking goldmine ready to nail your asses with. I’m guessing since he had it hidden under his desk, he was getting ready to use it.”
“And how’d you end up with it?” Hael asks as Callum chuckles and leans in to examine the smoking remains. He glances up at me and winks one of those pretty blue eyes of his in my direction.
“She pulled me into her office for some sort of ridiculous pep talk,” I say, tucking my hands into my pockets and feeling my own report crinkle under my fingers. “I stole it and jumped out the window.”
“Ooh, you’re gonna be in so much fucking trouble on Monday,” Callum says, grinning. Hael still looks distracted while Aaron stares at me like he’s never seen me before. Oscar is studying me with a discerning eye, but at least Vic looks happy.
“What’s in your pocket?” Oscar asks, blinking gray eyes at me. The question sounds casual, but there’s so much menace in it. Nobody misses his tone.
“Empty your pockets,” Vic says, frowning and giving Oscar a look. “If you’re gonna accuse a member of Havoc, you carry it through. I don’t like idle threats.”
I do as Vic asked, my palms sweating as I pull out the crumpled piece of paper, my lighter, and two dollars in cash. Vic strides forward, sliding his hands up my side and checking inside my jacket for anything I might’ve missed. Or maybe he’s just doing that on pretense, and is actually feeling me up instead?
Our eyes meet as he steps back and unfolds the single piece of paper.
Oscar’s gaze darkens, like he expected as much, but then Vic turns and thrusts the stapled pages at his friend’s chest.
“Don’t doubt our girl,” he warns as Oscar opens up the page and reads it, his eyes narrowing slightly before he passes it back to me, albeit reluctantly.
“I’m sorry, Bernadette,” he says in that smooth, easy voice of his. “I was wrong, and I’m not often wrong.”
“Wrong, how?” I ask, shoving the papers back in my pocket as Oscar adjusts his glasses.
“I assumed you’d keep more than your own confession.” He glances over at the smoking trash can. “That is, unless you stored the remaining pages elsewhere.”
“Oscar, that’s enough,” Vic snaps, and even Aaron looks frustrated, raking his fingers through his wavy brown hair.
“You can doubt me all you want,” I say, stepping up close to Oscar, my heels putting us more or less on the same level. “But I didn’t have to steal that box. I could’ve just left it in Ms. Keating’s office and let her drop the gavel on Havoc. Or I could’ve hidden it and you never would’ve known I had it.” A smile curves my lips as I meet Oscar’s eyes and stare him down. He’s not an easy person to lock gazes with, I’ll admit. But I refuse to back down. After all, I did beat his ass not too long ago. “Did it cross my mind to use that box against you? Yeah, it did.” I step back and shake my head, reaching up to fluff my hair. “But I guess I’d rather let you guys get away with all the rotten shit you did than be a liar like everyone else I know.”
Oscar smiles, this wicked sharp version of the expression, but I feel like I at least gained a point or two with him.
“No wonder Ms. Keating was running around in a huff,” Aaron says, giving me an assessing sort of look, like he’s wondering where good girl Bernadette went. I guess she died around the same time good boy Aaron did. Because, let’s face it, nice guys really do finish last. “You’ll get suspended, at the very least.”
“Maybe,” I say, well-aware of the risk. “But she also has this weird, savior complex thing going on. I might be able to get away with detention.”
“Well-done, Bernadette,” Vic says, pride clear in his rumbling voice. His eyes sparkle as he takes me in, rubbing at his chin. He’s not going to let me forget that we fucked in the bathroom today. Without a condom. I grit my