Malice

“I-I guess I’m okay.”

Lie.

“A lot has happened within the last few hours. Are you certain you wouldn’t like to talk about it?”

“Are you referring to the mob of overprivileged trust fund babies that just tried to kill me or my emotions?” When she winces, likely because she doesn’t want to acknowledge Angelview is shaping the next generation of psychos, I hollow in my cheeks and shake my head. “My emotions are peachy. Thanks for asking.”

Another lie.

“Ms. Ellis, are you—”

I dodge the question like an acrobat. “Is that why I’m here, Mrs. Wilmer? To talk about my feelings?” I’ve had plenty of practice avoiding personal questions, and even she won’t be able to get me to open up. She’s better off letting the subject go, but I don’t say that out loud.

Doesn’t matter anyway since she isn’t the one to answer me.

“You are here for several reasons, Ms. Ellis,” Headmaster Aldridge says, clipping each syllable. “The first of which, as Mrs. Wilmer has said, is to check on your current mental state. However, the more overarching reason is that campus police would like to have a word with you.”

My hands are clammy and cold as I link my fingers to stop them from shaking. “Why would they want to speak with me, sir?”

Dumbass, the voice in the back of my head laughs. You already fucking know.

His expression is stern as he replies, “That isn’t for us to say. We merely wanted to prepare you before they came in. We don’t want you to feel taken by surprise.”

Prepare me, sure. They want to lull me into a false sense of security before they release the hounds on my ass.

I’m not about to be their fall guy.

No matter what anyone says, or how they try to push me, I’ve done nothing wrong. I’ll be damned if I let my life be demolished all over again.

I’m i