Pride

hadn’t spoken to Kane since the night it had all gone down. And to run into him now-here, of all places, the site of his betrayal-

“I’m on the team,” Kane said calmly. “Where else would I be?”

“You’re not on the team,” Adam growled. Kane had played ball for Haven High back in tenth grade. He’d lasted a month. Kane had been the best player they had, by far-but after he’d missed two practices in a row, Coach Hanford had thrown him off the squad. Now Adam was the best player they had. But only by default. “Coach Hanford would never let you back on the team.”

“Hanford’s out,” Kane retorted. “Or didn’t you get the memo? Retired to Arizona. And, lucky for me, Coach Wilson isn’t such a hard ass-he seemed quite persuaded by what I had to say.”

Adam pulled on his team shorts and slammed the locker shut.

“How did you-” he stopped himself. He couldn’t speak to Kane, couldn’t look at him, without the bile rising in his throat. Without remembering the pictures he’d seen, of Beth and Kane, in the locker room, after hours, in each other’s arms.

“Could be fun, bro,” Kane suggested. “Like old times, you and me-”

“I’m not your bro,” Adam spit out, finally facing him. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, and I don’t care. Just stay the hell away from me.”

He brushed past Kane and headed for the door-he suddenly needed to be out on the court, to slam a basketball into the backboard. Hard.

“Now, is that any way to talk to a friend?” Kane called out after him.

We’re not friends. And I guess we never were.

But out loud, Adam said nothing. Kane had thrown away any right he’d had to call himself a friend. He’d trashed their friendship; he’d trashed Adam’s life. And now Kane had the nerve to speak to him? Here? Had the nerve to rejoin his team? Was he trying to destroy yet another part of Adam s life? Adam’s love for basketball was pure, and it was clean, and he wasn’t going to let Kane infect it, or steal it away.

Not this time.

Not again.

Beth had always been a “nice girl.” She thought of the phrase just like that, in quotes, because she was so used to hearing the words in someone else's voice. “Be a nice girl,” insisted her mother. “Such a nice girl!” her teachers all glowed. Other people’s voices, telling her who she was, what she should be. But all she ever heard in her own, silent voice these days was a warning.

Nice girls finish last.

And here was Harper, the perfect object lesson-the antithesis of nice, and she always walked away with everything. She was beautiful, she was popular, she was mean-and yet still, she’d taken home the prize. Beth's boyfriend. (Ex-boyfriend, she reminded herself.) And now here she was, at Beth’s mercy.

Beth could do the right thing, the nice thing-show her all the shortcuts, the places White would never check her work, ways to take an extra-long break; Beth could get her bumped up to the waitstaff in a few days.

Or… she could take a cue from Harper and throw nice out the window. She could be strict. Cruel. Mean.

And as it turned out, she was a natural.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Beth asked caustically, as Harper stood frozen with the mop. “A written invitation? The bathroom's that way-get to work.”

Harper trudged off down the corridor. Realizing that she’d neglected to change into her uniform, Beth was about to call out after her-then decided against it. Let Harper figure out on her own why she might not want to scrub a toilet in her street clothes. Instead, she followed Harper silently down the hall. After all, she was a supervisor now. It was time to get to work.

“Are you just going to stand there all day and watch me?” Harper asked, after she’d been sweeping the mop back and forth for fifteen minutes.

“If that’s what it takes,” Beth answered snidely. “You’re doing it all wrong-might as well just start over again.”

“What?” Harper cried. “No way.”

“Well, if you want me to call Mr. White and see what he thinks…”

Harper sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “Fine-you’re the boss.”

Beth was amused by how much the words thrilled her. Everywhere else in this town, Harper was in charge. Suddenly, Beth was the one with all the power. And she loved it already.

“I don’t know how Adam put up with you for all that time,” Harper mumbled under her breath.

“What was that?” Beth asked sharply.

“Oh, nothing,” Harper replied in a poisonously sweet voice. “Just wondering to myself what I should wear on my date tonight. My boyfriend is taking me somewhere special. It’s our two-month anniversary, you know.”

Beth knew. And she knew what had happened two months ago. In one day, Adam had both hooked up with Harper and decided Beth was cheating on him. Beth had long wondered which had come first. But she wasn’t about to ask.

She walked out of the bathroom without a word and back down to the kitchen, where she grabbed a fresh packet of sponges. Then she rejoined Harper and tossed her one.

“You’ll want to get down on your knees and really scrub those hard-to-clean stains,” she explained, pointing to a random spot at her feet. “There’s one now.”

Harper looked at the sponge with disdain. “My hands and knees? On this floor? You have got to be kidding me.”

“Hey, if you can’t cut it, you’re welcome to quit,” Beth suggested, impressed by her own icy tone. Where was all this coming from? Was this who, deep down, she really was? Whatever the answer, if felt too good to stop. “Until then,” she continued, smiling as Harper slowly got down on all fours, “like you said-I’m the boss.”

Kane didn’t like surprises-or mysteries. So it was bad enough when Adam, totally unexpectedly, had refused to forgive him for the Beth thing even after all this time. Worse was the fact that Kane couldn’t figure out why.

Yes, he’d stolen Adam’s girlfriend. Obviously, he wasn’t expecting a thank-you. But this? The silent treatment for two months, as if they were both ten years old again and Kane had smashed up Adam’s brand-new bike? (And even back then, it had only taken Adam a week to forgive and forget.)

She was, after all, just a girl. And Kane had seen her first.

The Beth Manning they’d grown up with had been nothing; a plain, faded face in the crowd, about as exciting as an old T-shirt at the bottom of your drawer. Familiar, reliable, and not so ugly that you’d never wear it-but best saved until you were desperate.

Kane had known who she was, of course-he knew all the girls. But knowing and caring are two different things-and in this case, they’d been a universe apart.

Then came sophomore year. The first day of school. And into their bio lab had walked a goddess: slim, tall, with perfect skin, a willowy figure, and glossy golden hair. It was Beth 2.0, new and improved, and from the moment she’d flowed through the door, Kane had vowed to have her.

He’d just never expected it would take so much effort.

A girl like that, a wallflower, a nobody, should have been falling all over herself in gratitude for attention from someone like him. Guys like Kane didn’t speak to girls like Beth Manning-or at least, they hadn’t before the Change. But there was no gratitude, and she seemed immune to his considerable charm.

So he’d enlisted Adam’s help-his best friend, he’d thought, remembering with derision. Adam was her lab partner, and his job was simple: Pave the way, reel her in, let her see that the A-list crowd wasn’t so bad, that she could trust guys like Adam. And, by extension, Adam’s good buddy Kane-that she could let her guard down. It was a gambit they’d used a lot in those days, letting Adam’s basic decency lure the girls in, under the assumption that Kane, too, must be a “nice guy.” Even if it wasn’t readily apparent. It took them a bit longer to figure out the truth-and by then, Kane had generally gotten what he needed out of them. It worked both ways: Sometimes Kane played the wingman, dazzling the ladies with his charm and then passing them along to Adam. Good old solid, reliable, dull Adam. It was a good game, and they’d worked well together, partners in