The bell rang, and Jared stretched up out of his chair, swung his bag onto his shoulder, and started his mission to—what had Chris called it? Make all these motherfuckers his bitches.
By the time he got to the period before lunch—gym—there was a dull ache behind Jared’s eyes that was caused from trying to look like he didn’t care. Nonchalance was exhausting.
He got to the locker room before the bulk of his class and changed quickly, heading for his now habitual treadmill. The girls would join him soon enough, and the guys would go to the other side of the gym to grunt and lift weights.
As always.
Jared walked for a few minutes to warm up while he set up his music and his earbuds, then pushed himself into a blistering run to get his heart pumping and legs aching. He was aiming for oblivion, the blissful moment when the pain in his throat, lungs, chest, legs all blended, forcing coherent thoughts from his head.
He looked over when the machine next to him started and caught Mia’s eye.
Goddamn it.
After giving her a terse nod, Jared resumed his eyes-forward sprint, hoping she’d ignore him. A small hand reached across and pressed the down arrow, slowing the machine.
No such luck.
With a heavy sigh, Jared pulled his earphones out and continued to jog.
“Can I help you?” he said to Mia, any venom in his tone lost by the fact he was breathing heavily.
“Are you okay?” she replied.
Jared rolled his eyes. “I’m fine. Thanks for your concern.”
He went to turn the speed back up, but Mia swatted his hand away. The girl to Jared’s left, someone whose name he’d not bothered to learn, looked like she was trying very, very hard not to be caught listening.
“What the fuck’s going on?” Mia asked.
“Not nice, is it, being out of the loop,” Jared said rhetorically, again without any menace. Mia was involved, for sure, but she wasn’t the mastermind of the bet. She was just a willing participant.
Mia glowered at him. “You pull up this morning in Biggie’s Caddy? The car that was supposed to be Adam’s. Chris isn’t talking, Adam looks like shit, and you’ve turned into Elsa the fucking Ice Queen.”
Despite himself, Jared grinned. “I like that, actually. The Harbor Academy Ice Queen.”
“Jared,” Mia said, a touch of pleading in her tone.
“Why don’t you ask Clare?” he suggested. “After all, she’s the one behind it all.”
He shoved the earbud back in his ear and turned the speed up on the treadmill, determined to slap a bitch if Mia tried to interrupt again.
Knowing Clare didn’t have any more information than Mia was incredibly satisfying. Mia had actually given him more than she realized; Chris wasn’t saying anything about the change in the Caddy’s ownership, and Adam looked like shit.
Both of those little nuggets kept him going on the treadmill for another half hour before he moved to the rower and worked on his arms without having to pump iron.
Jared purposefully didn’t look up when he returned to the locker room to shower and change. He kept his head low, not meeting any of the curious gazes as he fiddled with the knot on his tie.
In the hallway it was different. Here he was more confident in keeping his head high, still not looking at any of his classmates but with a proud jut to his chin that defied anyone to dare to speak to him.
The fact that Chris was holding court in the middle of the canteen, as always, was vaguely comforting. Before last night he would have been wary about joining that group of people for lunch. Now, though, he and Chris had an understanding, and he wasn’t about to forget that. Or lose the opportunity to exploit it.
Jared collected a baked potato and tuna from the hatch, and a can of soda, then walked over to the table. He was aware that everyone was looking, everyone wondering what had happened between him, Adam, and Chris.
You have the power here, Jared told himself as he walked across the crowded lunchroom. You’re in charge. You’re the boss.
By way of greeting, Jared held out his fist to Chris, and he bumped it with a grin that showed one gold incisor. In silence, Jared sat down in the unoccupied seat to Chris’s right and began to eat.
The noise around him blended into a comfortable, indistinguishable hum. Jared was still warm from his post-workout shower, despite the definite chill in the air. The lunchroom never got truly warm, or it hadn’t since he’d been here, at least. The space was too cavernous, too expensive to heat, despite the fact this was a fee-charging school.
Bastards.
People came and went, joining Chris’s posse until all seats were taken. Logically, Jared knew Adam was here somewhere. Not wanting that conversation, not now, and definitely not in front of Clare, Jared refused to allow himself to look around.
When his phone buzzed in his pocket, it was a welcome distraction.
Dylan: Are we still on for tonight?
Damn. Jared had forgotten today was Thursday, and he was supposed to be meeting Dylan in the city for their study session. Vaguely, Jared wondered if Ryder had filled her brother in on what happened. Probably.
Sure, he texted back. Same place?
The Starbucks was their regular meeting place, and the staff was nice enough. They let Jared spread out with his books and laptop. He had no desire to go anywhere else.
The thought of spending some time with a person outside Harbor Academy, one who might not know what had happened in the past few days, carried Jared through the rest of the day at school, allowing him to blissfully ignore everything that didn’t matter. There was a lot that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.
When the final bell rang, he had time to loop back to his locker to swap some books
