Corrupt Page 8
I liked it. I liked being scared.
Everyone sat silently behind me, and I watched him cock his head just a little as he regarded me. What was he thinking?
“She’s only sixteen,” Mr. Fitzpatrick spoke up.
Michael held my eyes for another second and then turned his head, looking at Mr. Fitzpatrick.
I was only sixteen—until next month, anyway—which meant they couldn’t take me with them. The basketball players’ ages didn’t matter, but any girls that joined them had to be eighteen, leaving school grounds of their own free will.
Not that they were going to take me anyway. Mr. Fitzpatrick was mistaken.
The teacher glared, and even though I couldn’t see Michael’s eyes, turned away from me as he was, I deduced that it unnerved Mr. Fitzpatrick, because his stare faltered. He dropped his eyes, blinking and backing down.
Michael turned his head back, looking at me once more as a drop of sweat glided down my back.
And then he walked out of the room, followed by Kai, who I knew wore the silver mask, the door swinging closed behind them.
What the hell was that about?
Whispers broke out across the room, and I could see Claudia’s head turned toward me out of the corner of my eye. I glanced at her, seeing her eyebrows raised in question, but I just ignored her, turning back to my paper. I had no idea why he was looking at me. I hadn’t seen him since he’d been home from college briefly in the summertime, and he’d ignored me then, as usual.
“Alright, everyone!” Mr. Fitzpatrick barked. “Back to work. Now!”
The excited chatter lowered back to whispering, and everyone slowly got back to work. The music, which had faded into a distant hum, cut off, and for the first time since I entered the room, I let go of the smile I’d been holding back.
Tonight would be chaos. Devil’s Night wasn’t just hazing. It was special. Not only would they grab players from all of the rooms, take them to an undisclosed location, rough them up a bit, and get them drunk, but later...the horsemen would wreak havoc and turn the whole town into their playground.
Last year, with them gone, it had been boring, but everyone knew that it was on tonight. Starting right now in the parking lot as all the guys and a few girls loaded up in the cars, no doubt.
I picked up my pencil, my breathing turning shallow as I bobbed my right knee up and down.
I wanted to go.
The heat in my chest was already starting to dissipate, and my head, which had just felt like it was higher than the trees a minute ago, was slowly descending and returning to the ground.
In another minute I’d feel the same way I had before he walked in the room: base, cold, and trivial.
After class, I’d go home, check on my mom, change clothes, and then head over to the Crist’s to hang out, a routine that started shortly after my father had passed away. Sometimes I’d stay for dinner, and sometimes I’d go back home to eat with my mom if she was up for it.
Then I’d go to bed, trying not to worry about how one brother tried to wear me down more every day while denying what woke up inside of me whenever the other one was close.
Laughter and howls drifted in from outside the windows, and I faltered, stopping my knee from bobbing.
Fuck it.
I reached under my desk, grabbing my Pre-Calc textbook, and leaned over, handing it to Claudia with my bag and whispering, “Take this home with you. I’ll pick it up this weekend.”
Her eyebrows pinched together, looking confused. “Wha—”
But I didn’t let her finish, already slipping out of my desk and walking toward the teacher.
“Mr. Fitzpatrick?” I approached his desk, my hands clasped behind my back. “May I use the restroom, please? I finished the assignment,” I lied in a quiet voice.
He barely looked up, nodding and waving me off. Yeah, I was that kind of student. Oh, Erika Fane? The demure one who’s always in dress code and volunteers to work concession at the athletic events for free? Good kid.
I headed straight for the door, not even hesitating as I left the room.
By the time he realized I wasn’t coming back, I’d be gone. I may still get in trouble, but it would already be too late to stop me. Deed done. Suffer the consequences on Monday.
Racing out of the school, I spotted a group of cars, trucks, and SUVs way off to the left, trailing around the corner of the building. I wasn’t planning on asking them if I could come or letting anyone know I was there. I’d either get laughed at or patted on the head and sent back to class.
Nope. I wouldn’t even be seen.
Jogging toward the group of cars, I spotted Michael’s black Mercedes G-Class and dived behind it, hiding as I peered around the corner.
“Get ‘em in the cars!” someone shouted.
I spotted Damon Torrance right away. He had his black mask sitting on top of his head as he walked through the cluster of cars and tossed a beer to a guy in the bed of a pickup truck. His black hair was pushed back, hidden under the mask, and I noticed his high cheekbones and still-striking black eyes. Damon was good-looking.
But I didn’t like anything else about him. Since I was a freshman when they were all seniors, I didn’t have much first-hand knowledge of their demeanors at school, but I’d seen plenty of him at the Crist house to know that something was wrong with him. Michael gave him a long leash, but it was still a leash and for a good reason. He scared me.
And not in the way Michael did that I liked.
There were about twenty-five people so far, counting the basketball team and some girls, but school would be out in less than an hour, which meant car loads more would be searching them out to join the party.