**Officially published as Clique Bait with HarperTeen!**
Payment is usually a part of a basic transaction. You give and then you take. But, at Arlington Preparatory, people take at their leisure. They take their entertainment in the form of humiliat...
Seriously, you have me worried now. Please just send something back, even if it's just to tell me how unbelievably pissed off you are with me.
I really need you right now.
Chloe.
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William Bishop was an asshole.
My fingers scrunched around the fabric of his shirt where they had been resting between our chests. In that moment, it took absolutely every piece of will power not to push him away – to not shove him into the hordes of people around us and then probably slap him in the face. Oh, the thought brought me incredible joy and pushed my restraint to its limits.
One thing was for damn sure, and that was that I was going to kill him after this. Murder him. My brain was already forming a method for his demise.
But, the other half of my brain – the one I struggled to keep in line the most – was going completely haywire.
If Lola Davenport hated me before, then she'd want me dead now.
My brain was screaming at me to end the kiss, to nudge him lightly, to giggle nonchalantly and slap his shoulders in a way that wouldn't raise suspicion to our audience. But it was futile, the control I had over my body had numbed, my muscles frozen in the shock of what was happening.
His lips were sweet and firm – so warm, and in control.
And they were stealing my first kiss.
I took a step back, my mind finally winning over my heart, which had conveniently decided to stop beating. As soon as we were parted, it made up for it by hammering loudly through my ears.
He must have registered how I felt by my expression, because his brows furrowed over his eyes apologetically. His hands reached out towards me – I hadn't realized I'd been stepping away. This wouldn't look good for our image, but between the alcohol and the heat in my cheeks I couldn't construct a straight thought through the fuzz.
I turned and clutched the railing of the ivory stairs, my feet moving faster than my mind as I ran to the ground floor, as fast as I could without losing balance on my heels. Rage filled me so deeply that my breaths came in gasps.
I didn't know what to do. I wanted to leave, but had no way home. I didn't have anyone to find, to confide in. Monica was long gone. She couldn't hold me and tell me it would be alright. I paced mindlessly through the hordes of people, some meeting me with friendly smiles, others looking concerned. I ignored them all.
The first empty area I found looked like a nursery. A baby's room, either one that was yet to be born or one who was well cleaned up after, judging by how tidy and untouched each piece of furniture appeared.
