Havoc at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #1) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,35
all.”
Lie.
Never in the history of the universe has a lie that great ever crossed the lips of any liar. It was monstrous in its falsehood, the most untrue thing there ever was.
I lick my lips.
“Not at all,” I repeat, and then I head straight for my first period English class, the only one of the day I share with Kali. Wish I didn’t though. One time she stole my essay, and when I confronted her over it, she lied and spread the rumor that I’d been bullying her. Me. When in reality, it was the other way around. The thieving bitch watches me as I come in and take my usual spot at the back of the room, crossing my boots under the desk.
After a minute, she stands up and makes her way over to me.
“Hey Bernie,” she says, tucking green-streaked black hair behind her ear. Ironic, that, isn’t it? That her hair is the color of envy … Kali’s dark eyes flick to the door before she returns her attention to me. “Is it true, what everyone's saying?”
“What is everyone saying?” I ask, looking up at her. It won't do for her to play dumb here, not after everything she put me through during sophomore year.
Kali called Havoc to make my life a living hell for several reasons, all of them inane, all of them pointless.
One, she came for me over a boy.
Two, she came for me over a stupid pageant.
Three, she came for me because she couldn’t handle watching me get the things she felt should’ve been hers.
So I spent four months afraid to come to school, afraid to stay home. If anything, I can attest to the fact that Havoc is very good at their job. They delivered everything Kali asked for, and more.
And what did she pay them for it?
Even I don't know the answer to that question.
“That you're with Havoc now.” She pauses and sniffles. Clearly, she's afraid that I've sicced them on her the way she did me.
I mean, she isn't wrong about that.
My expression is hard when I meet her gaze.
“Not just that you hired them,” she continues, and I can tell she isn't the only one in the class that's listening. “But that you're actually one of them now, like a member of the gang or something.”
I smile as the bell rings, and our teacher—Mr. Darkwood—hustles in at the last second, dumping a stack of books on his desk. He's one of those tragically nice guys who got into teaching to help people. He's always trying to save souls here at Prescott. He’s also a literary snob. I kind of hate him.
“Kali, please take your seat,” he says, and she frowns hard at me, leaning over to put her palms on the surface of the desk. Our noses are a scant few inches apart, but unlike the last time we faced off, I'm not backing down.
Granted, last time I didn't have much of a choice, now did I? With the full weight of Havoc behind her, Kali was a force to be reckoned with.
“If you send them after me, I'll finish what I started sophomore year,” she whispers, and I laugh. I can't help it; the sound just slips past my lips.
“You can sure try,” I tell her, lifting a single brow. “But I have a feeling you won't get very far.”
Kali slams her palm onto the surface of the desk and sneers.
“Billie and her brothers have teamed up with the Ensbrook boys. They're out for blood after what your pimps did to Kyler the other day. Havoc used to be a powerhouse on campus, but not anymore. Prescott High is a different place today than it was two years ago. Watch your back, Bernadette.” Kali shoves back to her feet and moves over to her desk, sitting down just as Mr. Darkwood finishes writing today's itinerary on the board.
I ignore her and focus on my schoolwork about as much as I always do. That is, not at all. Instead, I hold my phone in my hand and debate telling the guys about Kali. If they were willing to beat Kyler to a pulp for looking in a window, what would they do to her?
Eventually, I decide against it and tuck my phone away for the rest of class. We're supposed to be writing poems today, so I put my pencil against the page and let myself bleed across it.