Instead of responding, I just stare up at him with an expression that is deliberately blank. It’s been so long that I don’t think I could hold a civilized conversation if I tried. I don’t bother to try, because that would be against the rules.
But the new guy tries his best to make up for my obvious deficits. “From the play…you’re dressed up as Antigone, right? It’s not like I thought that was your name. I’m Jake Tully, by the way. I just moved here from Los Angeles. And I clearly didn’t get the memo about dressing up.”
I almost forgot for a minute that I’m wearing this stupid costume.
“You shouldn’t be talking to me,” I whisper to him, my voice just loud enough to carry the handful of inches separating us. Regret colors my tone, because he seems nice. I wouldn’t bother to warn him, otherwise.
There hasn’t been any nice in my life for a long time.
Talking to him is a risk I shouldn’t take, but I feel bad the way you do when a feeder fish is dropped into the shark tank at an aquarium. The guy hasn’t been here long enough to learn how things work. When he does, it’s going to be a hard lesson.
But the guy just laughs, which is more confirmation he doesn’t understand the pile of shit he just stepped in. I would pity him if that weren’t such a useless emotion.
“What are you talking about?”
I open my mouth to give him one last warning, but it’s already too late.
The sound of a locker door slamming shut is our only warning.
Vin Cortland appears like some dark demon summoned from the ether by a single thought. His glare takes in both of us, but lingers on my face when I look away. The heat of it is like a fire on my skin.
Even though he hasn’t spoken a word, the entire hallway falls silent around us. Standing behind him are the other members of his crew, who rule not only Deception High School but the entire town. They are the founding sons, descendants of the men who claimed this town from the wilderness a few hundred years ago.
The Vice Lords.
V.I.C.E.
Vin. Iain. Cal. Elliot.
The Lords of Deception, in every meaning of the phrase. Their wealth and status, combined with a ruthlessness rarely seen outside of prison yards, make them untouchable. The thought of it would infuriate me if I had the capacity for anything aside from an intense desire to stay the hell away from them.
Vin is the leader, the front man, the one who calls all the shots but almost never needs to get his hands dirty. The face of an angel and the soul of a sinner. If he wasn’t such a monster, I might liken him to something out of a magazine spread. At an impressive 6’3”, he towers over most of the other guys at school. But even though he might be the size of a Neanderthal, his face more closely resembles a Renaissance painting, almost too beautiful to be real.
An angry slash for a mouth that curls in perpetual sneer beneath eyes as hard as flint ruin the perfect image. Dark hair, so true black it is almost violet in certain lights, sets off turquoise eyes that look like a pristine lake when you can see all the way to the bottom. Except the only thing you’ll see in the depths of his eyes is more darkness. Vin is dangerous, and not just because he is capable of anything.
You can get away with a lot when your dad is the richest guy in town and your uncle is the local district attorney. Vin Cortland is untouchable, and he knows it.
He pulls from the vape pen in his hand and exhales smoke from his nose directly into the new guy’s face. Vaping, or smoking of any kind, isn’t allowed on school grounds, but the rules have never applied to the Vice Lords and probably never will.
None of them waste time on conversation, because they just assume someone will explain it to poor Jake later. Iain, who moves so fast that he is little more than a shock of bright red hair and pale skin, rushes Jake and holds his hands behind his back as Elliot and Cal take turns delivering solid punches straight to his gut.
Vin watches it all with an unreadable expression, taking the occasional pull from his vape pen.
I don’t beg them to leave the guy alone or put up any kind of protest at all. That would only make things worse for Jake. They don’t stop until he collapses on the ground with tears streaming down his face, gasping for air. No one goes running for a teacher or tries to intervene. One person takes out their phone to record a video, but it will never be used as evidence. None of them would have been able to stop this.
Everyone who had been watching just as silently as I was turns away when Vin’s narrow gaze sweeps the hallway.
Why paint a target on your own back?
Not for some new guy nobody even knows, and certainly not for me.
Vin catches me watching him, and his expression doesn’t change. He says nothing, but reaches out to touch the noose I have looped around my neck. It’s part of my costume, a symbol, because the character hanged herself. He pulls it hard enough that the breath catches in my throat as the rope tightens in the hollow of my throat. A faint smile touches his lips when I let out an involuntary gasp. It isn’t a pleasant smile, but the kind that is prelude to a nightmare. He finally lets me go and walks away.
I don’t take a deep breath until the Vice Lords disappear around the corner.
“You don’t talk to her,” Billy Harkniss says as he helps Jake to his feet. Billy has been in the same homeroom as me since freshman year, but doesn’t even spare me a glance
