Chapter 4 ONE RUMOR DESERVES ANOTHER.
SLOANE'S POINT OF VIEW.
It wasn’t real.
But in Ravenscroft Academy, truth never mattered.
Only power did.
And Lucien?
He had all of it. This school was practically his playground—a field his father had given him; he owned everything. He smirks at me, a grin in his eyes as he swirls his phone in his hand, the tattoo of an ace of spades beautifully drawn on the back of his right hand.
Overwhelmed, I rose from my seat, barely giving a damn about who was watching.
Everyone's eyes were on Roxanne, the new object of all gossip.
That's what happens when Lucien strips his protection from you-- you're left on your own, the wolves and sharks ready to close in on you.
I found myself in the girls’ bathroom after that. I needed a second to breathe, maybe to hide, the weight of everything crushing me.
The hum of the fluorescent light above buzzed too loudly, the smell of lavender soap almost suffocating. I gripped the sink, knuckles whitening, watching my reflection like she might give me an answer. My eyes appeared red as I fought the urge to cry.
To scream.
To run... and hide, far away from this school.
A few minutes later, I could feel myself returning to normal as my breathing evened out, my red eyes cleared, and I could finally breathe without the urge to curl up in a ball and cry. The quiet helped; no one else was in the bathroom, so I had my thoughts to myself.
I was wrong.
The door slammed open, the expensive wood hit the wall so hard, I thought it would fly off its hinges; even if it did, the parents would make another generous donation, and it would be forgotten.
I looked at the figure in the mirror; the last person I wanted to see had walked in. Her posse of bimbos behind her.
Roxanne.
“You just can’t stop begging for attention, can you?” she spat, her voice sharp enough to cut. “Slut in a scholarship skirt.” She narrows her eyes, sharpening them into slits that could cut through ice.
But for some reason, maybe it was the weight of it all, the fear of my father finding out, of my father losing his job, of Matt's betrayal.....Lucien's power, and the way it rubbed off on me from this morning, but I made one decision;
Not today.
Not anymore.
I turned slowly, drying my hands on the edge of my skirt, my eyes finding hers in the mirror before I faced her fully. She stood, waiting for my response, probably expecting me to shrink as I always did before her.
“I might be a charity case,” I said, my voice calm like a frozen blade, “but at least I don’t come with a receipt.”
Her mouth parted, the first crack in her perfect porcelain façade. She looks at her posse of bimbos, as though she needed them to speak up on her behalf, but even they were shocked.
“You’re not even his type,” she hissed, her porcelain face turned red; with embarrassment?
Shock?
I didn't know, and I didn't care.
I took a step toward her, tilting my head, studying her the way you might study an insect you’re deciding whether to kill.
She noticed, as she slightly moved back, her eyes sparkling with something I had never seen before.
Fear.
“You’re so plastic, Roxanne…” I let the pause stretch, savoring it. “…even your lies squeak.”
For a moment, she just stood there, chest rising and falling fast, like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to slap me or cry, her face turned redder as each second passed.
I thought she would burst into flames.
Then I felt it. The weight of a presence.
A shadow shifted just beyond the doorway, and a tall form stood confidently, revealing himself. His smirk was still on his face as his face shone with something.
Satisfaction.
Lucien.
He leaned casually against the wall, hands in his pockets, watching like he had all the time in the world. He didn’t say a word.
He didn’t have to.
Roxanne turns, noticing his presence, and like a child, she recoils in shock at the sight of him. A few seconds later, as we waited for her to do something, she suddenly stormed out like a petulant child, groaning as she walked.
Her possey followed behind her, lapping after their queen bee like mindless robots.
Lucien nods at me, giving me his approval, before walking away.
Later that day....
The hallway was darker than usual when I stepped out, like the whole building was holding its breath. School was almost over. Students poured out of halls into the grand hallway fit to hold a million people at once, their expensive uniforms adding to the air of class and wealth in the atmosphere.
I headed out of class, trying my hardest not to search for Matt; he and I usually walked home together.
Lucien was still there. Like he had been waiting for me, he looked up the moment I walked out of the hall and into the hallway.
He pushed off the wall, straightening, a slow smile curving his mouth, as he walked up to me. His long legs moved with expertise, as he belonged on the runway.
“You saw the new rumor?” I asked.
A dangerous glint lit his eyes. “One rumor deserves another.” He said, shrugging his shoulders lazily.
We both knew he meant the one he’d already dropped — the one about Roxanne and Matt and a conveniently leaked sex tape. It had spread like wildfire before the ashes of the first rumor about me could even settle.
But now, he wasn’t interested in defense. He was in attack mode.
“Let’s play, princess,” he said, stepping closer until I could feel the heat of him.
“People know this is fake,” I told him. “They know you don’t want me.” It felt like everyone was looking at us, and they probably were.
The hall suddenly became silent, so silent, even a pin drop would be heard.
I wasn't his type. I was too nerdy, too book smart, and certainly, I was too poor.
His smirk deepened, and for a split second, it looked almost real — like there was a truth under it he wasn’t ready to admit.
“They think I’m faking it too,” he murmured. “That I don’t want you.”
I felt like asking him if he did.
If he wanted me.
The space between us shrank as he moved closer to me, his lean muscled body against mine, electricity crackling in the air. My pulse thudded loudly in my ears, almost ringing as I stared into his ocean blue eyes; the orbs looked so beautiful, they could suck someone's soul in without a fight.
Then, he said softly, “Want to prove them wrong?” He whispered in my ear, his hands wrapped around my waist. He smelled so good, I had the urge to breathe in his scent.
I should’ve laughed. I should’ve rolled my eyes, stepped back, and reminded him that this was a deal, a game.
Instead, I stepped forward, closing any air around us, emboldened by his presence and the momentum of everyone watching us.
And I kissed him.
It was like flipping a switch.
One second, his mouth was just warm against mine. Next, his hand tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, his lips hungry like he wanted to consume the air I breathed.
The world of Ravenscroft High tilted. I clutched at his jacket, not because I needed to, but because I wanted to ground myself, to prevent my knees from weakening from how good it felt.
When I finally pulled away, my breath came fast, my lips tingling.
“You said fake,” I whispered, my heartbeat thudded louder in my ears as I tried to catch my breath, and I appeared not too affected by how good that kiss was.
“That,” he said with a slow, wicked smile, “felt real.”
And God help me, he was right.
"Miss Bishop."
The voice sliced through the haze, sharp as glass.
I turned to see Ms. Vale, my Literature and Arts teacher, dressed in all black silk and precision, her fountain pen poised between her fingers like she could skewer someone with it.
"Yes, Ms. Vale," I said, stepping back from Lucien’s heat.
"Your presence is required in the art room," she said, tone clipped. Her gaze flicked to him, unreadable, as she pursed her lips...like she was holding something back.
I started to follow, but Lucien’s hand caught mine, pulling me back hard enough that I stumbled into his chest. And then his mouth was on mine again — reckless, unapologetic, right there under Ms. Vale’s perfectly arched brows and scrutiny.
When he finally let me go, his lips brushed my ear.
"I’ll be waiting."