Pretty When She Cries - A. Zavarelli Page 0,60

my life, but it shouldn’t be for Kail. It’s one thing for petty teen rivalry. But getting her expelled from school? Audrey is trying to destroy her. I’ll be damned if I’m ever going to let that happen.

“What day did Audrey say this happened?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“On the thirteenth.” Alana frowns.

“Audrey is jealous of her.” I pick up my plate to carry it into the sink. “That’s all this is. But I’m going to handle it, Mrs. Grant. Just trust me, okay?”

Principal Dawson is quiet as he studies the video footage on my phone. It’s rock solid, and he knows it, but he watches it several times anyway, checking the timestamps.

“As you can see, she was home that entire day. What they told you is a lie.”

He sighs and hands the phone back to me. “I’m going to need you to hold onto that footage.”

“It’s already been sent to Alana’s attorney,” I bluff.

“What a fortunate coincidence that you happen to have a camera facing her pool house,” he observes.

“Yeah, it turned out that way.”

It’s a bullshit lie, and we both know it. That camera is aimed directly at her pool house because I’m twisted like that. After everything went sideways at that party sophomore year, I had the whole exterior fitted with security cameras. When Kailani moved back, that one may have been adjusted so I could keep an eye on her. But it will be a cold day in hell before I ever admit it.

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention,” Principal Dawson says. “I’ll be in touch if I need anything else.”

18

Kailani

I can still hear Mrs. Rothschild ranting like a lunatic when Mom and I shut the office door. We spill out into the hallway with equal sighs of relief. After Mr. Dawson called us in today, I was convinced I was walking to my doom. I’d already prepared my last resort battle speech, but as it turned out, it wasn’t necessary.

The principal informed us an anonymous student came forward with evidence that proved I couldn’t have attacked Audrey. I don’t know what it was, or who my unknown saint is, but I’ve never been so relieved in my life.

“See.” Mom squeezes me in her arms. “Good always triumphs over evil.”

“Yeah.” I choke out my agreement, but it feels like a dreadful lie. I’m not good. And if I’m being honest, I’m not even sure I deserve such a lucky break anymore.

“Want to go get some celebratory ice cream?” She wiggles her brows eagerly.

“I have dance practice,” I remind her. “I don’t want to miss any more.”

“Oh, right.” She smiles and shakes her head. “Maybe later then.”

We part ways in the hall, and I head for the gym, where Coach Lopez is already waiting for me. She surprises me with a hug when I walk in, but the warm reception doesn’t last long. Audrey is staring daggers at me over her shoulder, and any relief I may have had is washed away by one glaring certainty. This isn’t even close to over. If I thought she might receive any punishment for her unfounded accusations, it would be laughable.

“Go get changed,” Coach tells me. “We’ll do warmups, and then you can run through the routines with the team.”

Tonight, at dinner, I eat everything on my plate. My mom looks like she’s about to throw a victory party, and admittedly, there’s an all-around good energy hovering in the air. Landon is here too, and it’s strange how normal it feels to have him at the dinner table every night. I’m still curious why his mom doesn’t seem to care, but I’m too wary to poke at those types of intimate questions. He seems to understand I’m thinking about him, smirking at me as Theo peppers him with questions about his future plans.

“I haven’t decided yet,” he answers unapologetically. “I’ve been working most of my life. I think what I really want to do after I graduate is take a break. Travel, maybe. Then I’ll figure out the rest as I go.”

“How very bohemian of you,” I remark dryly.

He shoots me a look that feels like a spanking. Honestly, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with his plan. But I don’t necessarily like the idea of him traveling around the world to amazing places with some random beautiful women on his arm. Because why wouldn’t it be that way?

As if he can sense my irrational jealousy, his hand slides up beneath the hem of my skirt, cupping me

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