After that nightmare yesterday, I can only imagine how full of herself she’s going to be. I’m not in the mood to deal with it today either. If she tries me, she’s going to see what happens when I clap back.

Slumping into my seat, I drop my ratty backpack to the floor, leaning back in my seat and finding the back of Kali’s head. Her green-streaked dark hair cascades over her shoulders in a glossy, raven wave. The sight reminds me of a sleepover we had, years ago, when we took turns braiding each other’s hair. Hers was blond back then, too, but she didn’t like the brassy shade of it. We stole some money from her mother’s purse, bought some shitty black dye from the grocery store, and it’s been dark ever since.

My lips purse tight.

She let jealousy rule over our relationship, tear us apart, break us. She could’ve had me forever, and I would’ve been her ride or die bitch.

I tap my black-painted nails on the surface of my desk, twisted up from my interaction with the Thing, from the altercation with the Charter Crew—as they’re now also calling themselves.

A gang war, on top of everything else. Fantastic. And now Principal Vaughn is back? I feel like things are spinning out of control. My trust with the Havoc Boys is broken; my hatred toward Aaron is draining from me like the color out of the fall leaves. My whole world is topsy-turvy.

The only way to deal with it all is to take control, wrap my fist around the heart of the situation and squeeze until it stops beating.

As if she can sense the direction of my thoughts, Kali turns around to look at me, purple-painted lips curving up into a smirk. There’s something nefarious about her expression, something twisted, like the branches of the tree outside the classroom window. Almost wicked.

Is she pregnant with the Thing’s baby? That’s the question here. She’s dating Mitch, but fucking Neil? And she was seeing someone at Oak Valley Prep on the side? I smell a plot.

“Better get used to seeing me in front, bitch,” Kali says, and instead of reacting in the moment, I internalize my rage, smiling at her in a way that I hope brings nightmares. My hands twitch with a surge of rage, but I still them in my lap. “Oh, and I like the new look.” Kali runs her finger from the edge of her eye to the corner of her lip, mimicking Billie’s knife wound before she throws her head back with a plastic-sounding laugh.

I stay completely still, mind spinning with tainted thoughts. There are several places in Prescott High that the students call ‘dark zones’, spots in the hall or in empty classrooms where you’re unlikely to run into the campus cops or security guards.

Kali passes one on her way to second period.

Sucks to be her. I’m going to make certain of that.

It occurs to me then that she’s jealous of me for a reason, because Kali Rose will never be able to reach my level. She will never be able to do the things I do. It’s why she stole from me. It’s why she plays the victim, why she lies. It’s why she sent Havoc after me.

Mr. Darkwood comes into the classroom, and Kali turns away, pretending like she gives a crap about schoolwork. We both know she’s never planned on using education to escape South Prescott. Instead, she uses her body and her bullshit as weapons. I mean, I’ve seen her writing during peer reviews. Sorry, but Kali can’t write for shit.

Seeing her walking around like this though, a free woman, girlfriend to the new leader of the Charter Crew, it infuriates me. I’m paying Havoc’s price to see her downfall and yet, here she stands, more confident than ever.

My boys better have a good plan in place.

If they don’t, I’ll take things into my own hands. I’m done with being the victim here.

During class, I start a new poem, one that I don’t turn in at the end of the period, electing to take a zero on the assignment so I can slam the paper down on Kali’s desk.

He who dares not grasp the thorn

Should never crave the rose.

Anne Brontë was overlooked in her time.

I’ve stolen her words.

You will not steal mine.

I’m not afraid of thorns; I will pluck the petals from your rose.

Even if I have to pay the price in blood.

To be fair, it’s a shitty poem. But it does the trick. Kali looks up at me, confusion written across her painfully average features.

“What the fuck is this?” she asks, but I ignore her, heading out into the hallway and hiding myself behind a bank of lockers, one foot propped on the wall behind me. I’m aware that I’m not functioning as I should, that something in my brain is broken, that maybe I’m still in shock over what happened on Halloween.

But I don’t care.

I’m standing up for myself. Against Kali. Against the Havoc Boys. Against the world.

Unaware that she’s being stalked, Kali saunters down the hall like she’s queen, greeting Billie briefly and talking long enough that the other students clear out before she heads for the east hall. For the dark zone.

I slip out from behind the lockers as soon as Billie’s disappeared into the bathroom. I walk quickly but quietly, my boots gliding across the scratched and stained tiles that have lined these halls since my grandparents went to this stupid school.

As soon as I turn the corner and spot Kali, I start to run.

She turns around to look, tucking some hair behind her ear in the process.

“The hell?” That’s all she manages to get out before my fingers are digging into the back of her head, nails gouging her scalp as she gasps and reaches up to pry my hand away. “I’m pregnant,” she gushes suddenly, a truly cowardly move meant to save her own skin. Guarantee you the second I let go, she’d attack me instead.

“Oh, I already know that,” I purr, channeling Vic, channeling Oscar, channeling the pure emotional malevolence that is Havoc. Leaning in, I put my lips against Kali’s cheek, kissing her and staining her skin with my bloodred lipstick. “But as a friend once said, your face isn’t pregnant.”

I shove Kali forward and slam her face into the front of one of the lockers. She chokes on blood as hot red liquid streams from her nose and over her lips. I know she’s working to become a model. This incident might not change her life, but she won’t be pretty for a while, that’s for sure.

“You can thank Billie for this,” I hiss at her as my own face throbs. I cleaned it again last night, reapplied some butterfly bandages. The whole time, all I could think about were Oscar’s long, tattooed fingers caressing my cheek and arm. “Consider it an eye for an eye.”

Kali struggles, but my grip on her is too good. I shove her into the locker a second time, and she tries to scream. Too bad for her, I know exactly how to hold a bitch’s head back so that it’s hard to make a sound. With her neck curved the way it is, the best she can do is gasp and whimper.

My mind flickers back to Halloween night, to Kali sitting all cuddled up next to the Thing.

She could be a victim of his, too. I know that, and yet … nobody made her call Havoc.

She did that all on her own.

“You fucking whore,” she gasps out, but then I shove her forward again. Too hard maybe. Her knees buckle and she flags to the floor. There’s blood everywhere, but my vision is colored red, too, so it’s hard for me to tell.