Ella's Twisted Senior Year(47)

“Nope,” I say confidently, since I’ve already thought that over myself. I’m not the type of guy to send naked photos and that one conversation we’d had about sex was the only one I can remember having. “She doesn’t have anything else unless she wants to make something up. We’re good.”

“Cool,” Ella says as her shoulders relax. “I don’t want any more surprises. I just want this feud to be over.”

Principal Reynolds walks over to our table just as the bell rings. He clears his throat. “Which one of you is Ethan Poe?”

Ella’s eyes widen and she grabs my hand.

“I am,” I say, standing and untangling myself from Ella. I put on the best innocent expression I can. “What’s going on?”

“You drive the red Ford?”

I nod. “Uh, yeah?”

His lips flatten into a thin line. “Come with me.”

I give a helpless look to Ella and follow him down the long hallway that leads at the student parking lot. “Can I ask what’s going on?” I say just to break the silence. “Am I in trouble?”

“Not with the school, you aren’t.” Mr. Reynolds says. “But you’re either a target of random acts of vandalism, or you’ve pissed someone off, son.”

“I don’t understand,” I say, but then I stop short in the middle of the parking lot. The school cop is parked in front of my truck, his lights on while he fills out some paperwork on a clipboard. That’s not what makes me curse under my breath.

It’s the busted windows that catch my attention first. Every single pane of glass has been shattered. All four tires slashed. The headlights lie in broken pieces on the asphalt and Mr. Reynolds has the nerve to say, “At least they didn’t scratch up the paint, kid.”

My stomach launches itself into my throat. The cop walks over to me. “Any idea who might have done this?”

“Yeah.” My voice is heavy, my fists hurting from how hard I clench them together. “I know exactly who did this.”





Chapter 26





Halfway through fifth period, I get a text from Ethan.

Need to talk. Meet me in the science hallway.

I ask to use the restroom and then book it across campus to the science hall. Ethan is pacing between two classrooms, his shoulders up near his ears and his expression far away.

“What’s going on?” I ask. Gallons of rage are pouring off him in all directions, so I know this isn’t a romantic scheme to steal a kiss in the middle of class. “Ethan?” I say, to pull him out of his daze.

He sighs through his nose. “Kennedy took this whole thing too far.”

“Oh no, what happened?” I reach to my back pocket, realizing too late that I left my phone in my purse in class. “What’d she post this time?”

“It’s not a post,” he says, shaking his head. He unlocks his phone screen and finds something on his phone, then turns it to me. “She got physical.”

I don’t understand what I’m seeing at first. The photo on his phone shows his truck all smashed up and my first thought—stupid as it is—is that another tornado must have whirled through the parking lot. But of course that’s not the case; we would have heard about that. I hold the phone closer, peering at the damage inflicted onto his shiny red truck. “Kennedy did this?”

“Of course she did.” Ethan’s chest rises, his jaw flexing. “You know she did. And yet there’s no damn evidence to prove it.”

He shakes his head and continues pacing. “I just got back from a meeting with the principal where they said someone vandalized my truck but they can’t know who. You know those cameras on the light poles? Turns out they don’t work.”

My heart aches for Ethan but I can’t say anything because he’s going off on a rampage now. “I told them it was Kennedy and they even called her parents but she’s home ‘sick’, yeah right.” He makes air quotes with his fingers. “The bitch got pissed about our shirt and then took it out on my truck. Or maybe she hired someone else to do it. We know she did it. And now Dad is pissed. He had to get a wrecker to come haul my truck to the shop.”

“Wow.” I touch his arm and he stops pacing and turns to face me. I reach for his hand and he lets me take it. “I’m really sorry, Ethan. This sucks and she won’t get away with it. We’ll make sure she pays.”

His lips press into a thin line as he inhales a sharp breath. “I appreciate the fire in your words, Ella. You’re a fighter and that’s sexy as hell. But maybe we should let this go. I mean, what’s next? Will she hire someone to take out my knees with a metal pipe?”

I sigh. “You need to file a police report.”

“Already did.” He drags his hand down his face. “Insurance will fix my truck. I just hate that she got to me. I hate that she won.”

I shake my head. “She hasn’t won. Is your truck already towed?”

“Yeah. Toby said he’ll give us a ride home.”

I use Ethan’s phone to check social media. So far every app he has is completely free of any talk about his smashed up truck. “Did anyone see your truck besides you and the principal?”

“Just the school cop, why?”