Pretty When She Cries - A. Zavarelli Page 0,24

“He looks pissed.”

“Yeah.” I swallow.

“What’s his deal?”

“Who knows.” I fumble with my key fob.

“Sometimes, I think all that big dick energy goes to his head.”

I blink at her and laugh. “Big dick energy?”

She shrugs. “You have to admit he has it. That effortlessly cool vibe everyone worships. They all follow him around panting at his feet. I think secretly his ego is the size of a monster truck—”

“But he isn’t really like that,” I answer, a little too defensively, which makes no sense whatsoever.

I hate Landon Blackwood. Don’t get me wrong. But I also know he’s not full of himself. He definitely could be because he’s ridiculously hot in that broody, dark warlord sort of way. Girls hang on their every breath waiting for him to look at them or speak to them. But I never got the impression that he thought he was better than anyone else. If anything, he comes off as more antisocial and a little shy. It took him weeks to warm up to me, and even then, I was lucky to get one-word responses out of him.

“I’m confused.” Court cocks her head to the side. “I thought we hated him.”

“We do,” I assure her. “We definitely do. I just… I think he’s more complicated than everyone assumes.”

“Righttt.” She injects as much sarcasm as she can into her response. “If you say so.”

I unlock the doors and toss my bag on the passenger seat.

“Who do you think roughed Gavin up and tied him to the chair?” Court wonders aloud.

“Probably Jared.”

He might be a fake boyfriend, but I get the sense he feels protective over me in a big brother sort of way.

“Yeah, I guess.” She unwraps a piece of gum and pops it into her mouth. “You want to get some ice cream? Or we can watch a movie if you want. I promise I won’t bitch about the plot the entire time.”

I wish I could just tell her yes. Like things were simple, the way they used to be. Court and I were practically nonexistent then, and none of this shit mattered. We’d go to the bookstore and drink hot chocolate and talk about real things. But now all my energy is sucking me into a black hole of revenge. It’s exhausting and relentless, and after tonight, I’m more determined than ever to make them all pay.

“Rain check?” I offer her a weak smile. “I’m really wiped.”

“Okay.” She shrugs and pulls her keys from her pocket. “Just promise me you aren’t going to let this bother you all weekend.”

“Promise.” I nudge her pinky with mine.

I guess I’m a liar now.

6

Landon

The thumping subs at my place vibrate across the lawn, rattling the windows of Kail’s pool house like an earthquake. Piercing screams of drunken girls split my ears open and make them bleed. The after-party is in full swing, and everyone is already well past lit. I’ll have to pay the cleaning crew double tomorrow morning.

Audrey’s been blowing up my phone, demanding to know where I am. I read all her messages and ignore them because that pisses her off more than anything. Carson’s been asking where I’m at too, and I don’t know why he even cares.

I feel a hundred years old.

High school was supposed to be my chance at the life I never had. For some reason, I thought it would be more interesting than this. I wanted to know what normalcy felt like, but the constant loop of teenage problems at BMA has plunged me into ice-cold clarity. I grew up a long fucking time ago.

The parties, the pills, the booze. More noise. It’s what’s expected of me. And sometimes I wonder if coming back to Black Mountain was the dumbest thing I could have done. Even here, I can’t escape the expectations. The teachers pressuring me to apply for colleges. My teammates wondering why I don’t try harder to go pro. Am I going back to acting? What’s next? But surely you have a plan?

The truth is, I can’t find a single fuck to give about any of it. I’ve been working since I was four years old, and I’m fucking exhausted. I don’t know what I want to do with my life, but it isn’t this. The constant chatter, keeping up with the rich prick beside you. This treadmill might satiate these assholes, but it sure as hell isn’t going to be my life forever. In a matter of hours, my face will be splashed across another online tabloid, courtesy of

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