**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...
i know i always say it, but THANK YOU, i am so lucky to have all of your support!
a little note since i last saw you (well, you know what i mean): I've been invited to be a part of the Wattpad Futures program!! this is very exciting for me. it means I'll be earning revenue for the time i put into sharing stories like HSHL (y'all know how broke i am). i'm so ecstatic, the opportunity is out of this world, and i really hope you'll support me even if it means watching a few small adds.
the following is a (very long) bonus of chapter 30 from Will's point of view (the fight with francis). enjoy!
SPOILER ALERT read only if you've completed the book!
- ann 💕
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William Bishop had never considered himself a particularly angry guy. But, this week was an exception. He'd also thought of himself as rather tolerant when it came to handling his group of friends, but at times, they pushed it. There was always some selfish motive brewing between them, and at the moment, it was an act of control.
As if Will needed anyone else trying to control him.
It was like he was being punished, from the moment he'd met Chloe Whittaker. At the time, he'd thought it was the worst possible thing that could have happened to him. If only he knew how hard it would get.
He slammed his locker shut. There was only one period left before the end of the day, and then he'd at least have the weekend away from them. From the politics. From Francis Greene.
And then he caught sight of her, her head bowed as she shuffled something in her fingers. He resented the wry smile that immediately ignited to his lips. It wasn't supposed to exist, the happiness and reassurance that his body experienced at the thought of her.
In fact, it was cruel. Another punishment to add to the list.
He paced over to her, noting the way her cheeks were slightly flushed. She always managed to look proper, with her crisply ironed clothes and neatly combed hair, everything about her styled to the smallest detail. But it was her eyes that warmed him. The way they were so innocent, so quick to dart around almost erratically. The way they so easily melded with his when she caught his gaze.
"What are you looking at?" he asked, nodding to the envelope in her hand. A sheepish smile curled at her lips, and she looked around, nervous.
