The Heartbreaker Society Curse (The Heartbreaker Society Series Book 2)

by Jessica Sorensen

She gives me a pressing look then grits through her teeth, “Dude, you know you’re not supposed to talk about that.”

  “I know, but something happened this morning, and I …” I huff out a frustrated breath as I come to a stop in front of my next class. “I really need to talk to someone about what happened, and since you’re the only person I know who knows about the society, I thought I could tell you some stuff. You know, so I can have a little bit of input on the madness of it all.”

  She shakes her head, strands of hair falling into her eyes. “You really don’t understand this whole secrecy concept, do you?”

  “I do. It’s just that …” I stop myself, worried to say more while we’re around so many people. “You know what? Never mind. I’ll figure it out on my own.” I start to step into the classroom.

  “Jesus, will you stop pouting?” she gripes. “If you really want to talk about this, I’ll listen. But not while we’re at school. It needs to be somewhere private.”

  I let out a relieved exhale then spin around to face her. “Actually, I was going to ask you if you wanted to come over to my house tonight since my parents and brother are going to be gone. Originally, I was thinking you and Kinslee could sleepover, but then Clove heard about it and decided we should have a”—I make air quotes—“ ‘Get together.’ Which in Clove land could mean anything.”

  “Yeah, I know.” She mulls over what I said. “I’m down for coming over, but if you want to talk about this, we need to find a way to get some time alone.”

  “Well, Clove’s supposed to be picking me up from the store after I close up, but maybe you can pick me up instead?” I suggest.

  “What time do you close?”

  “Around seven.”

  “Okay, cool. I’ll pick you up then.” She starts to turn around, but then she pauses and glances back at me. “Ash, you need to be careful when you talk about this. No one else can be around when we do.”

  The worried look on her face makes me worried.

  Just who is The Heartbreaker Society?

  “I know that,” I assure her. “I haven’t told anyone else about it. And I’m not going to.”

  She relaxes a smidgeon. “Good.” With that, she strolls off toward her next class.

  I head into mine, feeling a little bit better until I spot Ava sitting beside the one and only empty desk left.

  Yep, this day just keeps getting better and better.

  6

  Ashlynn

  I offer Ava a smile as I sit down in the seat. She rolls her eyes then looks toward the front of the classroom as the teacher begins the lesson.

  She doesn’t so much as glance in my direction for the entire class period, which would be fine, except she makes a point to focus all her attention on me after class is dismissed.

  “So, what’s your deal?” she asks as I’m collecting my books.

  I glance up at her, confused. “What do you mean?”

  She gathers her binder and books then rises to her feet. “I mean, what’s the deal with this façade you’ve got going on?” She gestures at my outfit. “Because the last time I checked, Ashlynn Wynterland wouldn’t be caught dead wearing such grungy clothes. She also would’ve never hung out with sweet guys like Max and Clove.”

  I hate that she calls him Max. Max is what his friends call him. And yeah, I realize I don’t call him that, but he likes that I call him Maxon.

  I lift a shoulder. “Things change. I’ve changed.”

  She snorts a laugh. “Sure you have.” She inches toward me. “I know what you’re up to.”

  For a frightening moment, I worry she knows about The Heartbreaker Society.

  “I’m not up to anything,” I manage to say evenly.

  She rolls her eyes. “God, you’re so transparent. Just because Max turned into a hottie doesn’t mean you deserve him. I remember who you are even if he doesn’t.”

  I press my lips together, wrestling back the urge to chew her ass out. “You may have known who I was, but you don’t know who I am now.”

  She snorts another derisive laugh, and my fingers curl into fists.

  “This”—she makes air quotes—“ ‘I’ve changed’ crap may have everyone else fooled, but it sure as hell doesn’t have me fooled.” She steps toward me. “And I’m going to prove to everyone that you’re fake.” Then she walks by me, purposefully bumping her shoulder into mine, just like she did in the bathroom earlier.

  Anger simmers under my skin, and I just about chase her down. But if Maxon were here, he’d tell me to let it go, that I’m better than that. So, I’ll let it go for now, but dude, if she keeps it up, shit’s gonna hit the fan.

  Before I head to lunch detention, I hurry over to Mr. Chester’s classroom to say hi to Maxon, Clove, Huntley, Kinslee, and Clarissa.

  When I enter the room, I grimace at the sight of an extra person hanging out with my new friends.

  Ava is here.

  Awesome.

  I give myself a moment before approaching them, pretending to be the epitome of chill.

  Maxon spots me first. He usually does, and sometimes I swear he has, like, an Ash-sensor built into him. Maybe he does. After all, he has created some pretty awesome science experiments.

  “Hey,” he greets me with a smile. “What’re you doing here? I thought Clarissa said you have lunch detention.”

  “I do, but I thought I’d sneak by and say hi before I go serve my sentence.” I plan on kissing him, but he does it first, slipping an arm around my waist and lightly brushing his lips against mine.

  “Oh, come on, guys,” Clove complains while Huntley blushes and hurries off toward some cupboards at the back of the room. “We’re eating lunch here.”

  “I’m going to second that,” Clarissa says. When I toss her a playful glare, she grins. “In fact, I think we should have a meeting about all this PDA going on between you two, because I’m pretty sure the majority will vote no more kissing during lunch.”

  “We could do that,” Maxon says, turning toward her with his hand resting against the small of my back. “But just a warning; I’ll make a PowerPoint presentation of all the reasons why that shouldn’t be a rule, and it’s going to be a long one—at least twenty pages or so— and it’ll also state all the reasons why I should be able to kiss Ash if I want to.”

  “I’ll get in on that,” I add. “And I’ll make sure to put down very detailed descriptions of us kissing.”

  Clarissa crinkles her nose. “Please don’t.”

  “Oh, I’m so going to.” I grin at her, and she glowers back, but it’s a playful move.

  “Whatever. I won’t call a meeting, but for reals, I’m seriously going to get you two a room.” She grins at me as she reaches into her bag to grab her phone.

  Clove smacks the table and grins. “Hey, that’s what I told Max this morning.”

  Clarissa giggles. “But I bet, unlike Ash, he blushed.”

  Maxon strokes his fingers up and down my back as he sighs. “You guys do know I’m standing right here, right?”

  Clove glances at him with mockingly wide eyes. “Really, I totally couldn’t see you until now.”

  I giggle, causing Maxon to glance at me with his brow arched.

  “You know, if you laugh at him, it’s only going to encourage him more,” he tells me.

  “Sorry,” I say, but laughter still tickles my throat. “But he is kind of funny.”

  “Kind of,” Clove scoffs. “Try, is the funniest guy ever.”

  I giggle again, and Maxon shakes his head.

  “Fine, if you’re not going to stop …” He doesn’t finish, kissing me instead.

  When Clove groans in frustration, Maxon’s lips turn upward against mine.

  “I like this game,” I whisper, my lips grazing his. “We should play it all the time.”

  “You think so?” Maxon says with amusement.

  I nod. “Definitely.”

  The corners of his lips quirk, then he dips his lips toward mine again. But right as ou
r lips just about touch, Ava ruins the moment.

  “I don’t want to interrupt this, but Ash, aren’t you supposed to be in detention right now?” Her tone drips with sugary sweetness, making my jaw tick.

  I pull away from Maxon with a quiet sigh. “Yeah, I guess I better get going.”

  I glance at Ava, seeing a ghost of a smile touch her lips. I’m not sure what kind of face I pull, but Clarissa gives me a puzzled look then tracks my gaze to Ava, who’s still smirking at me. Clarissa’s brows rise as she looks back at me.

  I give her a look like see, told you. Then I look back at Maxon. “See you next period.” I stand on my tiptoes and give him a quick kiss before walking away.

  “Have fun, troublemaker,” Clove calls out after me through a laugh.

  Shaking my head, I flip him the middle finger.

  He gives an exaggerated gasp. “She’s so mean.”

  Ava lets out a sharp snort and mutters something under her breath.

  I want to go back and confront her, but I don’t have time. Plus, my friendship with everyone is so new and fresh that I worry if I confront Ava, they might take her side. So, I leave the classroom, feeling kind of sulky.

  By the time I make it to detention, I’ve received a text. I take a seat toward the back and sneak out my phone to read it.

  Clarissa: Dude, you’re so right. Ava does have a thing for Max. She totally keeps hitting on him. I’m seriously about to put her in her place.

  A bit of relief trickles through me that someone is seeing what I’ve seen.

  Me: I’m glad I’m not the only one who sees it. You should’ve heard the stuff she said to me during last period. She basically threatened to prove that I’m faking who I am now.

  Clarissa: Well, she’s going to have a hard time doing that since we all know you’re not.

  It’s strange to have a friend take my side. It’s something that I’m not used to but appreciate.

  Me: Thanks for saying that.

  Clarissa: It’s the truth. I know we haven’t been friends for very long, but having witnessed how you’ve changed, I know there’s no way it can be fake. I got your back, girl.

  Me: Thanks. I just don’t know what to do about this situation. I mean, Clove and Maxon like her, so I don’t want to be mean to her, but at the same time, I don’t want to hang out with her when she’s threatening me and is hitting on Maxon.

  Clarissa: Hmmm … I might have an idea.

  Me: What’re you thinking?

  Clarissa: You have study hall last period, right?

  Me: Yeah. Why?

  Clarissa: Well, me and Kinslee have art then, which we can totally blow off. And Max, Clove, and Huntley have a free period at that time, so I think we should all have a meeting to address this Ava situation.

  Me: You want to have a meeting? But I’ve never been to one of those before.

  Clarissa: That’s because we haven’t had one in a while, but I think we need one now.

  Me: Okay, yeah, let’s do it.

  Clarissa: Awesome. I’ll let everyone know after Miss Desperation leaves.

  Me: Sounds good. And love the nickname.

  Clarissa: It’s fitting for sure.

  Smiling, I put my phone away, feeling a little bit better. But I can’t help feeling a bit of dread stirring inside me.

  What if everyone else isn’t as understanding as Clarissa? What if they don’t believe me?

  What if they decide they don’t want to be my friend anymore?

  7

  Ashlynn

  My worry over being friendless continues to increase the longer I sit in detention. By the time I’m released, I’ve almost convinced myself that everyone is going to dump me after this meeting. It doesn’t help that I don’t have enough time to chat with Maxon before our next class. But I do manage to sit behind him, and he ends up passing me a note.

  He’s so old-school sometimes. It’s cute.

  I smile as I unfold the note and read what he wrote.

  Missed you at lunch. I think we should make a rule that you can’t have lunch detention anymore. It makes lunch too boring.

  I smile like a lovesick dumbass as I write back:

  I’ll try my best, but I’m not very good at being punctual. I’m seriously tardy all the time and, half the time, I don’t even know how it happens.

  I feel a drop of guilt over writing the last part since I’m well aware of why I was tardy to class today. I wish I could tell him about the society, but part of me is worried the society will find out if I do. Plus, I’m not sure I want to bring him into that. In fact, I promised Clarissa that I wouldn’t bring him into my drama. Although, that promise was directed more toward the drama I was having with Queeny. Still …

  I internally sigh then finish writing the note.

  But I’ll try my best not to get any more detention so you guys can have your lunch entertainment.

  Oh yeah, and I missed you, too. Like a freakin’ ton.

  I fold the note back up and hand it to him as the teacher starts passing out the assignment we’re supposed to work on.

  Maxon takes a minute to read the note then jots something down and passes it back to me.

  It’s not just about having our lunch entertainment. It’s also about having you around. I like seeing you whenever I can, which is why I’m kind of glad Clarissa called a meeting during last period. Although, I’m sort of confused over what the meeting’s about. You wouldn’t by chance know, would you?

  I tap the end of my pen against my lips. So, Clarissa didn’t tell anyone what the meeting’s about? I wonder why.

  I do, but if Clarissa didn’t tell you, then maybe I shouldn’t.

  I pause from writing when Maxon leans forward in his desk to take a stack of papers from the person in front of him. As he does, I get a good view of his butt and take a moment to admire it. Then, feeling pretty amused with myself, I add to the note:

  P.S. Your butt looks really good in those pants.

  The remark is totally going to embarrass him, which is part of the appeal of writing it.

  Smiling, I fold up the note then hand it to him while he gives me the stack of papers. I take one then pass the stack along to the person behind me, keeping my gaze trained on Maxon as he unfolds my note and reads it. I know the moment he gets to the last part because a flush creeps up the back of his neck and the tips of his ears tint pink.

  Shaking his head, he writes something down on the paper then reaches back and drops the note onto my desk. I expect it to contain some sort of message about how much I like embarrassing him, so I’m a bit surprised when I read:

  Well, your butt looks amazing in those shorts.

  Holy freakin’ crazy unicorns, I did not see that one coming! And apparently, neither did those silly butterflies in my stomach because they go all kinds of mad crazy.

  I rub my lips together, deliberating what to write next. But after a few minutes tick by, I decide to lean forward and whisper in his ear, “I like this flirty side of you. It’s cute.” I sneak a glance around before kissing his cheek.

  He shivers ever so slightly then glances over his shoulder at me, his cheeks a bit flushed. He doesn’t say anything, but the look he gives me makes those crazy, lunatic butterflies lose their damn minds.

  The little weirdoes.

  After that, Maxon and I tone down the flirting to work on the assignment. I barely get anything done, though, as I grow more and more nervous about this meeting.

  By the time the bell rings, I’m a nervous wreck.

  “Where is this meeting supposed to be taking place?” I ask Maxon as we gather our things to leave.

  “I think we’re going to leave campus and go to that diner over near the grocery store,” he tells me as he threads his fingers through mine.

  “We’re leaving campus?” I ask, a bit surprised.

  He shrugs. “No one has any real classes this period. Well, Clarissa and Kinslee have art, but the teacher gives them passes to leave the classroom to work on thei
r projects wherever they want.”

  “Really? Why the hell am I not taking art?” I thrum my finger against my lips. “Oh yeah, duh.” I smack the heel of my free hand against my forehead. “Because I suck at it.”

  “I doubt you suck,” he tells me as he steers me into the hallway.

  “Um, yeah, I totally do. It’s okay, though. I can’t be good at everything.” I give him a cheeky grin.

  He smiles back, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Maybe you’re not good at drawing and stuff, but you’re definitely great at writing.”

  “I’m not sure if great is the correct word,” I say. “All I’ve really written is a couple of articles for the newspaper, and they were each, like, a couple of paragraphs long.”

  His gaze suddenly travels across the people filling up the hallway, as if he’s searching for someone. “What about that poem you wrote last year? The one that Mr. Chester read aloud to the class,” he says absentmindedly.

  My brows dip. “What poem …?” It suddenly clicks.

  Last year, I wrote a poem for English about a girl who felt like she was watching her life through a veil. It was around the time I started feeling really guilty for the terrible things I’d done, and somehow those feelings of guilt manifested into the poem. I nearly crapped my pants when Mr. Chester decided to read it aloud to the class. Fortunately, he didn’t say who wrote the poem.

  So, how does Maxon know I wrote it?

  I slow to a stop in the middle of the hallway, drawing his attention.

  His forehead creases. “What’s wrong?”

  I look him in the eye. “How did you know I wrote that poem? Mr. Chester never said it was me.”

  He scratches the back of his neck, seeming squirrely. “I … I may have been watching you while he read the poem aloud, and I could just tell by the way you looked that it was you. But even before that, I kind of already wondered if it was you because the words seemed to sort of fit you.”

  “But it was super depressing and talked about guilt,” I point out, confused.

  He nods. “I know.”