He’s right. Most nights I average three hours of sleep…if I’m lucky.

But I’m not turning my back on Oakley and I refuse to give up Bible study and choir. I also need a job, therefore quitting Cluck You is out of the question.

So is giving up my own study time.

I have no choice but to find a way to make it work.

Stone—who’s been awfully silent—speaks. “You should start drinking coffee.”

I try not to laugh. “Too late. I already have a cup before school and a cup after school.”

In the beginning it helped, but a year later…not so much.

He thinks about this for a second. “Damn. In that case, upgrade to energy drinks.”

“Or Adderall,” Luis cuts in.

Confused, I turn to look at him. “Adderall? Isn’t that for people with ADHD?”

Focusing isn’t my problem. Lack of time is.

“Yeah, but it gives you mad energy and helps you concentrate. Plenty of people on my campus take it to help them study.”

That’s…unnerving. “How? Don’t they need a prescription from a doctor?”

“They’re not getting it from their doctor,” Stone informs me.

Luis and Stone exchange a glance before Luis adds, “They get it from their street pharmacist.”

It’s all I can do not to roll my eyes. “Drug dealers.”

Luis shrugs sheepishly. “Pretty much.”

Stone reaches for a towel. “Not worth it. That shit is basically legal speed.”

“Yeah, but it works,” Luis chimes in before looking at me. “As long as you don’t take it all the time.”

Hold the phone. “You take it?”

I’ll admit I’m surprised. Luis is the last person I’d ever suspect of using drugs.

“Nah. Not on the regular.” Grinning, he plucks his shirt. “I’m already skinny and that shit makes you lose weight like crazy. First week I tried it I dropped five pounds, so I sold the rest of the pills to my cousin.” He laughs. “But I studied like a motherfucker and passed all my tests with flying colors, so there’s that.”

“Oh.” I’m at a loss for words as I walk over to the clock and punch out. “I have to get home and study for my history test. See you tomorrow.”

Chapter 8

Sawyer

Looking for your shit?

Here’s a clue, it’s where people like you belong.

Xoxo

The Squad.

The irritated groan that rips from my throat startles the few students studying in the school library.

For the last hour I’ve been looking for my purse and backpack Casey and her squad of bitches stole out of my locker.

I’ve searched classrooms, the cafeteria, even the dumpsters out back…and nada.

Why Casey decided to target me today is anyone’s guess. You’d think she’d have more important things to worry about considering all the rumors flying around about her and Cole’s breakup.

I’ve tried to mind my business and tune it out, but the gossip is straight up vicious.

Allegedly, the queen bitch has been cheating on her boyfriend for months with the quarterback from Royal Hearts High because of Cole’s…well, shortcomings and inability to sexually please her.

I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t nice to see Cole in the hot seat for once.

Although a big part of me truly feels bad for him. It sucks when people make fun of you and spread false, hurtful rumors.

Not that I have any proof as to the validity of Casey’s allegations.

It never got that far between us.

But as usual, I’m trapped in the Cole Covington vortex and my heart feels things for him it shouldn’t.

Things like compassion and empathy…despite knowing he’s a royal asshole.

Focus, Sawyer.

As if on cue, my phone—which was fortunately inside my pocket during Casey’s little locker robbery—vibrates.

Dylan: Here’s Bianca’s number. Jace said she’s at cheer practice right now, but if she refuses to tell you where your stuff is, let him know and he’ll get it out of her.

Relief flows through me as my phone vibrates again.

Dylan: And if he can’t, so help me God, I’ll slap it out of her.

I smile down at my phone.

Sawyer: You’re the best, but I’m pretty sure it won’t come to that.

Bianca’s a bitch, but she’s not heartless.

At least that’s what I tell myself as I type out my next text.

Sawyer: Hey Bianca, it’s Sawyer. I’d really appreciate it if you could tell me where my stuff is. I have work in an hour and if I’m late again, my boss will fire me.

Bianca: Sawyer who?

Seriously?

Sawyer: Sawyer Church

Bianca: That’s a terrible name. You should really consider changing it.

She’s got to be kidding me.

Sawyer: Sure thing. I’ll jump right on that. As soon as you tell me where my stuff is.

Bianca: I mean I could….

Another groan lodges in my throat when I receive her follow up text.

Bianca: But it’s gonna cost you.

Of course it is. Heaven forbid the girl does something for the sake of being nice.

Sawyer: I don’t have much money.

Bianca: g2g. Casey’s bitching at me for being on my phone during practice.

Shit on a stick.

Sawyer: Wait. How much do you want?

Bianca: I don’t want your money. Christian’s throwing a Halloween party this weekend and I need you to come with me.

What she’s asking doesn’t make any sense. She’s a cheerleader and a member of Casey’s squad. Showing up with me would be social suicide.

Sawyer: Why? Last I checked you said we weren’t friends, remember?

Bianca: We aren’t. But Jace found out about me going to Christian’s party a few months ago and flipped his shit, so now Cole won’t let me go to them anymore. Do you have any idea how much it sucks to be excluded?

Yes, yes, I do.

Bianca: And now everyone keeps referring to me as Jailbait Covington and no guy will touch me. It’s seriously fucking up my reputation.

Gee, what a shame.

Sawyer: As tragic as that all sounds, I really need to know where my stuff is.

Bianca: Not until you agree to help me out.

Swear this girl is as stubborn and manipulative as they come.

Sawyer: Fine, but what makes you think going with me will change Jace or Cole’s mind about you going to the party?

Bianca: You’re kidding, right? You’re pretty much the equivalent of a saint and Jace trusts you. Going with you is the only shot I have of going at all.

Before I can protest, another text comes through.

Bianca: Pick me up at 9 on Saturday and try not to look so…you. TTYL.