Wicked Dreams (Fallen Royals, #1)(17)

“I’m just saying, he’s pretty chill with everyone except for you. In like a broody sex-god type of way, you know?”

I roll onto my back. If I close my eyes, I can picture how his body feels against mine.

I keep my eyes wide open, staring into the dark. “I hate him. I hate how he looks at me and how he makes me feel. God, I’ve never felt such…” Fury. The same I saw reflected in his eyes, mirrored back at me. And on top of that, an aching helplessness.

I can’t stop him.

I can’t control him.

“What am I supposed to do?”

She sighs. “He’s the bully. You’re the victim.”

“Is there a but in there? You’re supposed to be my trusty advisor.”

She snorts. “Yeah, well, you’re not giving me too much help with Eli.”

“You didn’t say what exactly happened…”

The line goes quiet for a moment. I wonder if I’ve pushed my new friend too far. I haven’t seen her since lunch, and before that, the weekend.

“I mentioned that he flirted,” she mumbles. “He said I drive him crazy.”

My eyes widen. “Whoa.”

“Yeah.”

“How do you…”

“Drive him crazy?” She laughs. “Probably stems from freshman year. We were on a debate team, and I was the only one who would correct him.”

“That’s not what I was expecting,” I admit. “I thought it’d be something more… heinous.”

Like what you did, Margo?

“Um, you haven’t checked Instagram by any chance…?”

I sit up. “What? Why?”

Riley groans. “No, Margo, don’t—”

I put her on speaker and open the app. “What am I supposed to be looking at?”

She stays silent, so I type in Caleb’s name. Once his profile loads, my breath catches. He posted, ten minutes ago, a picture of him and Savannah. She’s kissing his cheek, and he has a wide smile. There’s no caption.

“So moody,” I manage to say. “When he was just in my room?”

Riley sighs. “You sound upset.”

“No,” I say. “No, this is just psychological warfare.”

“Right.”

“So… I need to fight back.”

She pauses while I scroll through the rest of his profile. It’s from another life: action shots of him playing lacrosse, photos with his friends, one of him in the middle of a backflip off the bow of a boat. That isn’t the Caleb Asher I know.

The one I’ve come to understand is dark and insufferable. He glares more than he smiles. His touch is brutal, his words are harsh…

“How are you going to fight back?” Riley asks.

“I need…” I search through my memories, picking out pieces like starlight in the darkness. “Something will put him off-balance.”

“Okay,” she says. “But… I don’t think I can be involved in that kind of war, Margo. Because that’s what it would turn into, you know.”

I laugh, the wheels in my mind spinning. What would rattle Mr. Perfect? “I’ll let you go. But just warning you: we’re not done discussing you and Eli Black.”

“Yeah, yeah. Good luck with your scheming.”

“Night, Riley.”





8





The next week of school, Caleb Asher ignores me. Not a glance. Not a whisper. No insults, no name-calling—nothing.

It rattles me more than I admit. I have to wonder if he somehow read my mind: maybe he’s the one who just started a war, before I ever had a chance to act out a plan.

After a few days, Riley and I start to enjoy our newfound peace. We even creep into the lunchroom and claim a table in the corner, spying on the rest of the school. It’s like we’re camouflaged.

“You used to be friends with that?” Riley asks, pointing with her spoon toward Savannah.

She sits with her cheerleader friends at a table in the center of the room, taking up as much space and noise as possible. Today’s a game day, which means the football players are wearing their jerseys and the cheerleaders are in their uniforms. They stand out against the monotonous sea of white shirts.

“Um, yeah, when I was like nine.”

She snorts. “You had poor taste as a nine-year-old.”

“Yeah, I was friends with Caleb, too.”

“Like, friends-friends? Or, you went to the same school and kind of knew each other—”

“Definitely friends-friends,” I say. “Let’s not talk about that.”

She perks up. “Have you come up with a plan?”

“Oh, my diabolical mind-fuck of Caleb Asher? Yes, yes I have.” I make her wait a minute before I say, “I need to find a boyfriend.”

Silence.

Shock.

“What? Who?”

I shrug. “I’m not too picky. I just need someone to hold my hand and maybe kiss me… Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Who’s kissing you, Sheep?”

I guess that explains the weird expression on Riley’s face.

I grit my teeth as Caleb lowers himself down next to me. He drapes his arm over my shoulders and winks at Riley.