by Mae Doyle
Pausing for a moment, I consider what I’ve just said, then I add one thing. “And I want you to stop trying to drive a wedge between me and the only friend that I have here.”
That’s when his face goes pale and he shakes his head. “You think that you have it all figured out, Abigail, but you really don’t. Madeline isn’t your friend. You don’t know the truth about her, and you’re not going to be able to find it out if you don’t start paying attention.”
This makes me stop in the hall and jerk my arm from his grasp. His fingers were so warm and I instantly miss his touch, but there’s no way that I’m going to admit that to him.
“Stop,” I hiss at him, leaning forward. Our faces are just inches from each other. It wouldn’t take anything for me to kiss him. The thought runs through my head and I feel myself starting to spiral. Taking a deep breath, I try to put myself back on track. “Stop trying to make this so much worse for me than it already is.”
“You’re the one making things worse.” Quinn leans forward, running his fingers up my arm. I shiver at his touch, but this time, I don’t pull away. God help me, I want to feel his hands all over my body. I want to be the center of his attention and I want him to need me the way I need him. “You’re the one who is putting your trust in the wrong person.” He brushes his lips across my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “You need to make sure that you know who you can trust, Abigail, before you make a big fucking mistake.”
Lightly, he bites my ear, making me break out in goose bumps. I’m stuck there, the sharp edges of his teeth pinning me in place, but I don’t think that I would move even if I could.
When he finally lets go and steps back, I cross my arms, trying to put something physical between the two of us. “I wish that you would just go fuck off,” I tell him, trying to keep my voice from shaking.
A look of uncertainly flashes across his face. At least, that’s what I think the look is. I’ve honestly never seen it on Quinn’s face before, so I’m not sure what to do. I’m not sure what to say to him, or who I can trust.
I can trust Madeline, right? If I can’t trust her then I am really and honestly fucked.
“Okay. Okay, Abigail. You want to be left alone like a big girl? You think that you can play the games that Trinity Prep has out for you? That’s fine. Just remember that it wasn’t Madeline who came through for you when you really needed help. When you needed something to eat, I was the one who was there.”
Before I can even think through what he’s said, he turns and stalks off down the hall.
But it doesn’t make sense.
I know that he wasn’t the one who brought me food. He’s the one who has been against me this entire time, so it makes absolutely no sense that he would suddenly change his mind and want to be on my side, right?
He can’t be the one who helped me out.
Quinn is the one person at this school that I know for a fact that I can’t trust. Well, him and Alice. And Carter. And Trae.
Okay, there’s a lot of people that I can’t trust here. But he’s the one who has been openly vocal about his hatred for me. He’s the one who wants me out of the art program so that he won’t have any competition for the internship.
To think that he may have been the person who brought me food is insane. It’s laughable. It makes literally no sense.
But nothing about Quinn makes sense, including the way that I feel about him. Just being around him makes my heart beat faster and makes it difficult for me to make smart decisions. I know this and still I spend time around him.
The bell chimes softly and I realize with a start that I’m about to be late to class. I have to make sure that I’m there on time, but all I want to do is try to figure out what’s going on with Madeline and Quinn. I won’t get to see her until lunch, and this time I’m not leaving her alone until I get some answers.
If she is the person who brought me a box of food then I need to know it. I need to look my friend in the face and thank her.
And if she wasn’t?
Well, that’s too scary for me to think about.
Because if Madeline wasn’t the person who brought me something to eat when I felt like I was starving then I have to accept the fact that it may have been the person who calls me little cunt, and that’s almost too much for me to bear.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The entire cafeteria falls silent when I walk through the double doors. They all know that I’m not supposed to be here. Even though most of them haven’t been downright mean to me, they’ve kept me from eating, called me names in the hall, and looked the other way when I’ve been attacked and tormented.
They’re not my friends.
I’m pretty sure that I only have one friend in here, and as soon as I see her, I make a beeline for her. She’s sitting with Natalie and Vincent, facing me, and her face grows dark as soon as she sees me walking across the cafeteria.
I don’t make it halfway to her when she stands up, planting her palms on the table, and frowns at me. “What are you doing here? You know that you’re not allowed to be here.”
Nobody moves. Everyone is watching the two of us to see what’s going to happen. Searching her face, I look for any sign of compassion. I need her to care for me, but there’s nothing.
Nothing.
“I thought that we had worked things out.” I don’t know what to say without letting everyone in the cafeteria know that someone had brought me a box of food, and I don’t want to get her in trouble for her kindness. “I wanted to thank you.”
Her eyes narrow and she purses her mouth. There’s something about what I’m thinking that doesn’t make sense.
Suddenly it hits me.
In the hall earlier today, Quinn knew that someone had given me something to eat. But there’s no way for him to know that unless…
Unless it really was him.
Madeline wouldn’t have let anyone know that she was doing something to help me. The realization that she really isn’t on my side hits me square in the face and I take a tentative step back, then another.
“Leave.” Her voice is cool and she looks totally in control. When she sits back down by her friends, I scan the cafeteria for Quinn, but I don’t see him.
Where is he?
As much as I’d like to stay and try to figure that out, I know that I need to get out of here before something bad happens. Alice is watching me from a corner of the cafeteria, and Carter and Trae are with her. It doesn’t make sense that Quinn wouldn’t be here, but I shouldn’t stick around to find out where he is.
***
I don’t see him the rest of the day. He skips art class, which is unheard of for him, but Mr. Stanfield doesn’t say anything about it. After he lectures everyone, I walk back to my work area, pleased to see a new stretched canvas waiting on me.
Sucking in a breath, I pull off my wrist brace and give my hand a little wiggle. Everything feels tight and weak, but I think that I can hold a paintbrush if I’m careful. Slowly I pick one up and wave it in the air. Something clicks deep in my wrist, but I’m going to have to work through the pain if I want to complete my painting.
I haven’t told anyone that I’m going to be working. Even if I wanted to share the excitement, there’s nobody who cares enough to listen to me. Even Mr. Stanfield probably thinks that I’m off in some corner, licking my wounds, and I’m fine with that.
Carefully, I squeeze out the paints I’m going to need, then pick up my palette knife and start mixing. My hand tires quickly, but I’m not going to slow down. Gritting my teeth, I force myself to keep mixing and working. I know that I should take it easy.
I know that I should see the nurse.
But I’m not going to. I’m going to start painting today, no matter if it kills me.
I swear, it almost does, but when class is finally over, I have a lot of great colors mixed up. I’ve even started roughly sketching out my painting, which feels amazing. Getting back to work after a few weeks of not being able to pa
int is a huge relief.
Leaving, I pull my curtain shut behind me. Someone, probably Mr. Stanfield, is turning off the lights in the room, and I pause for just a moment, enjoying the smells of my paint. It feels really good to be back.
This morning I had hoped that I’d be eating dinner in the cafeteria with Madeline today, but I think the best thing for me to do is try to avoid her as much as possible. The thought almost kills me, but the way she looked at me at lunch honestly scares me.
I don’t want to think that Quinn is right. I don’t want to think that he’s the person who helped me out, especially when he treated me like shit at first, but I can’t deny the way she looked at me.
The way her eyes looked through me. They were cold and heartless, and she’d never looked at me like that before.
Shivering, I pull my shirt tighter around my body and start to cut through the maze of curtains and workspaces. Nobody in class knows that I painted today, and I want to keep it that way. I don’t want people to know that I’m back, and that’s why I’m cutting through the space, trying to avoid being seen.
Chances are good that it’s just Mr. Stanfield left in the room, but I still don’t want to run into anyone.
I’m almost to the door when I hear his voice and I freeze, thinking that he’s calling out to me. But that doesn’t make sense. He’s never used that tone with me before.
The last time I overheard a conversation in here, it was him and Quinn, and it completely changed how I viewed Trinity Prep and my place in it. I hesitate, knowing that I should keep walking. I know that I should put as much space between me and whoever he’s talking to, but I feel frozen to the floor.
The next voice that I hear honestly gives me chills. It’s not one that I ever expected to hear in this department. She’s a sculptor, not a painter. She’s not supposed to be here.
Besides, she hates me.
But it’s Madeline’s voice. I’d recognize it anywhere.
“I think that the thing I don’t understand is how the hell she’s still here. I thought that you and Quinn were going to take care of her. Where is he, anyway? Wasn’t he supposed to meet us here to talk about everything?” Madeline sounds pissed, and the blood in my veins runs cold as I listen to her.
She’s my best friend. What in the world is she doing down here talking to Mr. Stanfield, and why would she want me gone? It doesn’t make any sense.
Quinn is the person who wants me out of Trinity Prep. Madeline has always been there for me.
My head is swimming and I have to bite my lower lip to keep from calling out. I have a sneaking suspicion that getting caught listening in on their conversation could be very bad. Even though my entire body is screaming for me to get out of here and run as far away as possible, I have to know what’s going on.
Mr. Stanfield’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “I thought that she would be gone by now, darling, but I can’t help the fact that she’s more stubborn than we all thought.”
It sounds like Madeline throws something to the ground. It clatters and I flinch, even though I know that she can’t see me. “You would have thought that after she broke her wrist and I got to the nurse to give her an overdose of medication she would have left. Why can’t she get the hint that she just doesn’t belong here?”
She talked to the nurse?
He murmurs in response and I lean forward, trying to hear what they’re saying. It still doesn’t make any sense. From what Quinn said before, his family has some dirt on Mr. Stanfield and that’s why he’s been basically promised the internship. But if Madeline is involved then…
A chill runs through me.
Madeline and Quinn have hated each other from day one, but I never really considered why that was. He thinks that he’s a god here, and everyone has accepted it. But Madeline…
“You would have thought so, wouldn’t you? Everything always works out for you two, doesn’t it? Already got the internship locked down?” Mr. Stanfield sounds bitter and angry. I still don’t know what’s going on, but I keep praying that one of them will say something that will clue me in.
She scoffs. “Of course, I do. There’s not any competition that comes anywhere near how good I am, so it wasn’t ever a concern. Even if it were, I’m not worried about being able to take out the competition. I just can’t believe that my brother would be such a damn pussy about it.”
Her brother? I don’t want to believe what I’m hearing, but there’s nothing else that she could have said. I know that I didn’t hear her wrong. I just…she never mentioned having a brother, and surely she would have mentioned if it were Quinn, right?
I mean, that’s not something that you just keep from your best friend. Right?
Honestly, right now I don’t know what’s right or wrong. If Madeline and Quinn are really siblings, then that changes the whole game. It doesn’t make sense that she would hide that from me, but it also doesn’t make any sense that he would bring me food when he was the one who turned the entire class against me in the first place.
Sinking to my knees, I still try to be quiet. I have no idea how long the two of them are going to be talking, but there’s no way that I’m going to try to leave the room until they’re done and I know that they won’t catch me.
Madeline starts back up as soon as I sit. “I’m going to kill my brother, you know that? Is he in here? Hiding in the back?” Her footsteps start towards me and I throw myself backwards, scrambling along the floor as I try to stand up.
Her footsteps stop. “Who’s there? I heard you!” There’s an anger in her voice that I’ve never heard before, and I look around in a panic, trying to find a place to hide.
There’s nothing.
I’m next to an easel, but when she walks in, she’ll be able to easily spot me.
I could try to run for it, but I can’t seem to get to my feet.
Madeline is whipping open curtains now, coming closer and closer to me, and all I can do is stay where I am. It’s like my body has given up on me and I can’t seem to get my feet under me to just go.
In just a moment she’s going to rip back the curtain in front of me, I know it. And when she does, I’m completely and utterly fucked.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The curtain yanks back and I shut my eyes, not wanting to see Madeline. There’s no way that she can miss me – not with me curled up on the floor by the easel, my arms over my head, trying to hide from her. She’s going to see me, no doubt, and then she’s going to…
What?
Kill me?
I don’t have time to worry about what she’s going to do, because the curtain rips back, the sound so loud in the silence that I want to cover my ears and hide from it, but there’s literally nothing I can do and nowhere for me to go.
“What the fuck?” Madeline sounds surprised to see me on the floor and I risk a peek out at her, spreading my fingers just a bit so that I can see her face. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
She doesn’t sound pissed, which I think is probably a good sign, but she obviously isn’t happy, either. I struggle to sit up, gasping when I accidentally put my weight on my right wrist.
“I…I hadn’t left after class yet. I was just heading to the door when I slipped and fell.” It’s a lie, and a terrible one, and her eyes narrow as she looks at me.
“Bullshit. How long have you been listening, Abigail?” She’s never used my full name before, and the way it rolls off of her tongue gives me chills. “Tell me how long you’ve been listening and what you’ve heard, you fucking cunt.”
“I didn’t hear anything. I was on my way out and I slipped, then you came and I got scared, not knowing who it was.” Even though I know she can tell that I’m lying, there’s no turning back now. I can’t possibly tell her the truth – that I heard the whole conversation between her and Mr. Stanfield – and hope that she doesn’t do something drastic.
She rolls her eyes. “Get up.” Reaching down, she grabs me around the upper arm and yanks. Her han
d is in the same place that Quinn always grabs me.
Quinn. Her brother.
I still can’t wrap my mind around it but I don’t have any time to think about it right now.
Stumbling to my feet, I reach out to the easel to brace myself, but she pulls me out from the workspace before I have any time to think.
“Look what I found listening in on our conversation,” she calls to Mr. Stanfield as we walk. She knows the way through the workspaces and drags me with her to the front of the room where he’s waiting. He has a strange expression on his face and his face is pale.
“Abigail?” He sounds as surprised as I feel, but he doesn’t move to me when Madeline lets go of my arm and pushes me to him. “What are you doing here?”
I look down at the bit of paint on my hands that I wasn’t able to get off with turpentine. “I was painting and had just finished up when Madeline started walking through the room. I got scared and I fell, and that’s where she found me.”
“She’s lying,” Madeline hisses, walking up next to me and starting at Mr. Stanfield. “You and I both know that she’s full of shit. What do we do about her?”
He ignores her and looks at me. “Did you hear what we were talking about?” There’s genuine concern on his face, but I can’t tell if it’s for me or because he’s worried about what I heard.
I shake my head emphatically. “No, sir, I have no idea what you guys were talking about. I was just…thinking about my work and trying to get out of here as quickly as possible.”
The look on his face tells me that he knows that I’m full of shit, but that he’s probably too tired to deal with it. “Then you need to leave, Abigail.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice, and I stand up, whipping around to the door, but before I can make a run for it, Madeline steps in front of me. “What the hell, Stanfield? You just going to let her leave like that?” She glares at me, and for the first time, I see the similarities in her face and Quinn’s. How in the world did I not see it before?
