Their football team might clobber ours on the field, but the Havoc Boys make those spoiled brats bleed.

Still, I can’t shake Kali’s pregnancy … or Brittany’s.

Or the fact that I keep screwing Victor without condoms, like a total idiot. I’ve had sex ed; I know better than that. But really, it all comes back to not caring whether I live or die, if I have a future … The only thing that matters is Heather, but the deeper I get involved with Havoc, the more I start to wonder if maybe I might have a life one day, too.

I’m standing in the bathroom where Billie stabbed me, staring into a cracked mirror and reapplying my lipstick. Today’s color is Venom, this glorious blood-red with a purple tint that makes me look just a little bit scary.

The entire school is buzzing with Friday’s party news. Clearly, the entire event was a power play move by the Havoc Boys; shooting Mitch was not an accident. And now that Mitch’s crew is tainted by their association with Fuller High? Well, the reverence is back in the gazes of the Prescott High students. Guess we did okay because we spent the rest of the weekend at Vic’s and Aaron’s, smoking weed, and working on schoolwork. It seems like the boys know how to take a break every now and again, at least.

The bathroom door swings open and there’s Ms. Keating, staring at me with dark brown eyes, her mouth pressed into a flat line, just like I knew it would be.

“Am I expelled?” I ask, twisting the lipstick and watching the colored tip disappear into the tube. I glance her way as she sighs.

“No, Bernadette. I don’t believe kicking students who need help out of school is a very productive way for a society to better its youth. Come with me, please.” She steps out of the bathroom as I tuck the rest of my makeup away and head after her, turning the corner and moving into her office. She closes and locks the door behind me before taking a seat behind her desk. I notice the windows are also closed and locked today.

I sit down in the chair in front of her desk, and we spend several moments staring at each other.

“I know why you did what you did. Gang life can seem … enticing, when you have nobody and nothing else. It gives you a sense of belonging, of purpose, of family. But none of it is real, Bernadette. No matter what you do for Havoc, you will never be anything but a tool for those boys to use.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience,” I say, leaning back in the chair and staring her down. I think about Aaron, taking the blame for stabbing Kali. In all honesty, Ms. Keating is probably right … about most people, about most gangs. But the Havoc Boys …

“I am,” she says, exhaling sharply and folding her hands on the top of her desk. Her hair is twisted up in a pretty chignon today, her makeup subtle but tasteful. I can hardly imagine her living the gangster lifestyle. “My high school career was less than stellar, and I ended up running with a very dangerous gang—”

“Havoc is different,” I say, wondering why I’m bothering to defend them in the first place. I hate them. They ruined my sophomore year. They fucking tortured me. And yet … Aaron with his girls, Hael’s kindness at the pharmacy, and even Victor holding me in bed that night. They’re not so bad really, are they? Ms. Keating’s face softens, and she sighs again, like she feels sorry for me, like I’m brainwashed or something. “They could’ve done so much worse,” I tell her, coming to a sudden realization. “They could’ve raped me. They could’ve beat me until I couldn’t stand. But everything they did, it was calculated to inflict damage without leaving the worst sort of scars.”

“Bernadette,” Ms. Keating starts as I grip the arms of the chair, blinking through the idea that’s just slid into my brain. They didn’t do those things because they didn’t want to hurt me. They didn’t want to hurt me. They didn’t.

Victor Channing punched me in the face between first and second period for saying Bernadette Blackbird was hot.

The words from that box come drifting back to me, and my heart begins to pound.

Havoc has done worse. They could’ve done worse. They chose not to.

Fuck, I need to talk to them.

“Can I go now?” I ask, feeling antsy, but Ms. Keating doesn’t look like she’s ready to let me off quite so easy.

“Bernadette, you stole a box of administrative files from my office. Do you understand how problematic that is?”

“I burned them,” I blurt, squeezing the end of the chair arms, my nails digging into the wood. “I can’t get them back.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you to bring them back,” she says, “but I am going to ask you to write me a two-thousand-word paper on the implications of gang violence.”

“Okay,” I say, just wanting to get out of there as fast as I can. “I’ll have it in tomorrow.”

“Bernadette,” Ms. Keating starts, but I’m already standing up out of the chair. “Just … please, if you need someone to talk to, I’m on your side.”

“Right,” I say, but there’s no part of me that believes her.

My list includes the principal, the foster brother, the social worker … I’ve tried trusting people like her before, and it didn’t work out for me. I’m not changing my ways now. Not a fucking chance.

I snatch the note she hands me and let myself out of the room, yanking my phone from my pocket and staring at our group text, wondering what the hell I’m supposed to say. Thanks for not kicking my ass too hard? I just now realized you could’ve killed me, and you didn’t? I don’t owe them a thank you for not being worse pieces of shit to me.

I put my back to the wall and take a few deep breaths, putting my phone away.

I must be losing my mind. I’m sitting here defending Havoc? Getting all excited about thanking them for … like, not raping me? This is insane.

I push up off the wall and head to my first period English class with Mr. Darkwood, flashing the note I got from Ms. Keating to excuse my tardiness. Kali doesn’t even look at me when I walk in, but I know she’s aware of my presence because her entire body goes taut. Wonder how she got to school today with no car? Or how she’s doing now that her boyfriend’s laid up in the hospital with a GSW in his shoulder?

Today’s assignment is to write either a cinquain or another haiku. I seriously can’t even understand how the cinquain works other than that it’s five lines, so I go back to the haiku again.

You tormented me

I thought you were all demons

Were you always there?

I frown and cross that out, scribbling down six more versions that are all related to Havoc before I just rewrite the first one and turn it in. My mind is all over the place as I head down the hall to my second period class, and then float my way through to lunch.

The boys are sitting on the front steps with food from the cafeteria. Usually, I’m the first one to get food since my fourth period class is right next to the lunchroom, but this time, I took my sweet time in the bathroom before heading out here, just to collect myself.

When I see them sitting there, it’s like they’re bathed in a whole new light.

“You okay?” Vic asks, an edge of violence to his voice. I realize he’s waiting for me to say I was bullied by Kali or something. I shake my head and sit down next to the boys in black, all of them but Oscar holding cigarettes and smoking blatantly in front of the security office.