I take off. Stalking right for him, I dig in my heels, ready to slam his fucking face into the hood of his fucking car. I’m almost glad he’s picking a fight right now. I’ve wanted to hit something all day.

I hear someone call “Masen” but I don’t stop to find out who. I lunge straight for him and grab his collar, throwing him around and slamming him up against his car.

He growls, taking my jaw in his hand and trying to push me off, but I twist away from him and swing my fist back, landing a punch in his stomach.

I hear screams and shouts around me, feeling a crowd close in, and I quickly grab him again, slamming him against the car.

“Fuck you, faggot,” he bursts out, swinging his fist back and knocking me in the face. The metallic taste of blood seeps into my mouth from the inside of my cheek, but I still don’t release my hold on him.

“Can’t take a joke?” he yells.

I bring my knee up, hitting him in his stomach. He hunches over, and I raise my fist high, pounding down on the back of his head twice.

“Masen, stop!” I hear someone yell, and I think it’s Ryen.

I grab him by the collar again and throw him down on the ground, sweat covering my back and my lungs begging for air. But before I can get to him and land another hit, hands grab my upper arms and haul me back. I struggle against the hold, and the guy holding me stumbles forward, trying to keep a grip on me as I glare at Trey.

“What’s going on?” a woman barks.

“It took you long enough!” Trey snarls at the guy behind me, and I gather it must be J.D., his friend, holding me back.

The principal appears between us, looking at me as Trey pushes himself off the ground. “Calm down!” she orders me.

I breathe hard, dragging in air through my nose. Every muscle in my body is tight, and I keep my eyes on Trey as the arms behind me finally let go.

“What happened?” Burrowes demands, looking between us.

“I didn’t do anything!” Trey shouts. “This asshole shows up and jumps on me!”

She looks to me for an answer, but I don’t say anything. Everyone stands around us, their attention held captivated, a few people putting away phones now that the principal is here, and I can’t help but let out a small smile, seeing a drop of blood at the corner of Trey’s mouth.

“Whose car is that?” the principal questions, gesturing to my truck off to the right.

But Trey and I are locked in a stare, both of us refusing to say anything.

She seems to draw her own conclusions, though, because she looks at Trey, her voice turning stern. “You will get a bucket and the hose, and you will clean every inch of it. Both of you! That better not be permanent paint.”

“But—”

“Now!” she cuts him off. “And I warned you what would happen if you pulled anything else…”

“It wasn’t him, Mrs. Burrowes.”

I blink, hearing Ryen’s voice. The principal stops and turns toward her.

“Trey’s just covering for me,” Ryen says. I hear her voice off to the side somewhere, but I refuse to look at her.

What the hell is she doing? I might believe she’d vandalize my car, but to write FAG on the hood? Not a chance.

“Excuse me?” Burrowes asks her.

“Yeah,” Ryen goes on. “It was a stupid prank. I’m sorry.”

Voices sound off around us as everyone starts whispering, and I blink long and hard. Her prom date was about to get in trouble, and she couldn’t let that happen, could she? It would just be too humiliating to show up to prom alone.

Stupid girl.

“You did that to his car?”

“It was a joke.” Ryen’s voice is calm and convincing. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll take it for a car wash and pay for it. Right now.”

“Hell no,” Trey chimes in.

“Just shut up,” Ryen snaps at him and then lowers her voice. “I’ll be right back.”

I don’t wait to be dismissed. I shoot Trey one last scowl and walk away, the crowd of students clearing as I head to my truck. I dig my keys out of my pocket and yank open the door, climbing in.

This isn’t over.

Ryen climbs in the passenger side, dropping her bag on the floor, and I can feel her eyes on me.

I bite my tongue, too fucking angry to deal with her right now.

I start the engine and lay on the horn, barely waiting for the nosy little shits to move their fucking asses before I step on the gas. Students squeal and rush out of the way as I speed out of the parking lot, putting as much distance as possible between me and everyone there.

Everyone except Ryen.

I pull out onto the road while light sprinkles of rain hit the windshield, and I stare at the paint and shit all over my hood, my hands gripping the steering wheel. I’m going to kill him.

“Here,” Ryen says. “I don’t want this.”

I’m glaring ahead, but I shoot a glance over, seeing her hold up Annie’s blue scarf. She must’ve seen it in her Jeep before the fight happened.

“Just take it,” I bite out. “It was a dick move, ruining yours. I owed you.”

“I don’t want it,” she insists and tosses it at me. “Another girl’s perfume is on it, so you should let your skank know she left it in your backseat.”

I shake my head.

Bitch.

I take the scarf and stuff it in the center console. “Fine,” I grit out.

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her. To let her know that it was my sister’s and somehow I liked the idea of Ryen having a part of her and what a dumb idea that was, because why would I want a vile brat like her to put her hands on anything that belonged to Annie?