Out for Blood

by Devyn Forrest

  Suddenly, Max’s face changed. He tilted his head and looked harder at my face.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  He lifted a finger and grinned. Then, his finger drew forward along my eyebrow. The touch was tender and soft—like Zed’s—and at first, I was panicked. Was Max really the type of guy to do this? Cheat on Chloe?

  But when he brought his finger back, he held on his finger the most beautiful late-season butterfly. It was light purple, with a gorgeous whirly black pattern across its wings. He beamed and held it at my eye-level and said, “It landed right on the ridge of your eyebrow. I’ve never seen that before. It must be good luck.”

  “I don’t think I’m the type of person to have good luck,” I told him. I was captivated with this butterfly, who seemed content to just sit on Max’s finger and lift his wings forward and back.

  “Come on. Look at how far you’ve made it so far,” Max said. “You’re just like this little thing. I saw your practice a few weeks ago. You go further into the air than anyone else.”

  “If only I had wings,” I murmured.

  “You don’t need them,” Max said.

  Just a moment later, the butterfly finally lifted into the light wind. I gave Max a little smile. Perhaps he could be a new friend? He shrugged and shuffled his fingers out, and his eyes looked a bit glossy like the butterfly had made him feel something he couldn’t really put into words.

  “I’ll think about what you could get Chloe. Fuck, I mean, I have to think of something myself. She deserves something special.”

  “She really does. I appreciate that, Rooney. And—I wanted to say.”

  “What?”

  “I heard Poppy talking in the dining hall this morning,” he said and kicked the earth beneath his feet.

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure whatever she said was really stupid and had no bearing in reality.”

  “Yeah, but. You know what she’s done before. To other girls in gymnastics,” he muttered.

  “Sure. But I still don’t...”

  “She said she was going to find a way to make mid-semester your first and last contest at Denver Athletics,” Max said. His cheeks reddened, and his eyes turned to the ground like he hadn’t wanted to be the one to tell me. “Just watch your back, okay? Chloe would be devastated if you left. She said you’re the best friend she’s ever had.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Be careful. Be safe. Watch out for Poppy. I was tired of the non-stop warnings, and the anger felt like it brewed in my belly, about to make me snap. At early-morning practice the next day, we dipped into our pre-run stretches and I felt someone’s sharp nails enter the skin at my elbow. I spun around and grabbed the intruder's wrist and glared at her in the darkness of the morning. Of course, it was Poppy. I made her jump to the point her nails immediately fell from my skin, and her eyes popped wide open in shock.

  “Get your hands off me, you bitch,” I hissed, so low that only she could hear it. Even Coach Jonathon didn’t rise from his stretch.

  But slowly, a light grin drew itself between her cheeks. “Let’s see if you can even pay your way to stay here, foster bitch!” she spat.

  Of course, she had found out. My cheeks burned with anger. Zed had heard Mr. Piper, which meant that Clinton had also heard, which meant the whole school buzzed with my money problems. I turned back around and continued my stretches, but my pulse pumped loudly in my ears.

  My idol. My number one girls’ gymnast.

  She wanted to destroy me.

  And fuck, I wanted to destroy her now, too.

  But I had to do it on the mat.

  After our run, Coach Jonathan led us back into the gym. I swiped a towel over my forehead and scanned the stands, surprised to see that Theo’s dad, Thomas, was sitting up in the middle rows. He stopped in from time to time, but it was always a rush for me to see him, one of my Olympic heroes. Theo was with the boys’ team on the other side of the gym with Coach Quintin. When my eyes scanned that way, Theo jumped onto the uneven bars, and his muscles flexed and strained beautifully and he kicked up and flipped onto the higher bar. I had heard he was the master at uneven bars, a technique you could only truly kill if you had the intense upper body strength that Theo had. God, it was sexy.

  We still had two weeks until our mid-semester competition. Coach Jonathon helped us finalize our routines for both floor and balance beam. After I practiced my balance beam set, I stretched out on the mat and watched the other girls for a few minutes. Poppy fumbled her backflip and landed with one foot about three feet in front of the other and Coach Jonathon cried, “Get your head out of your ass, Poppy!” I guess the little things had to give me pleasure these days.

  “Hey. Rooney Calloway, isn’t it?”

  I whipped around to see Thomas Everton standing behind the mat. I swallowed and nearly swooned at the sight of one of my heroes and then scrambled up to stand in front of him. He was a more rugged, older type of handsome than Theo, and his eyes were steady and honest.

  “I’m Thomas Everton,” he said. He stuck out his hand, so I shook it and then smiled up at him. “I’ve watched you this past month and I am seriously in awe. You’ve got it—whatever it is.”

  I felt my face turn crimson and flashed him my biggest smile. That was the most amazing compliment anyone could have said to me, especially because of who said it. “Thank you so much,” I murmured. “It’s really an honor to be here.”

  Mr. Everton took a little step forward. He looked down at the blue mat and laughed softly. “I always want to just head out across the mat like I’m not this middle-aged guy in normal shoes. Our head never really ages like our body does. To me, I’m still on that Olympic team, you know?”

  There was no way I could know, but I could imagine it. I nodded and imagined a reality in which I wasn’t the same powerful gymnast.

  “Anyway,” Mr. Everton continued, “I wanted to let you know that you’re invited to my house this weekend. Every year about a week before the mid-semester competition, I like to invite all the top athletes over for dinner. I live only a few miles away from here, and it’s become something of a tradition. I hope you’ll come,” he said, looking at me with anticipation.

  I arched my brow. It seemed really bizarre to me to leave campus, at this point, after not losing sight of the grounds for over a month.

  “You don’t have to, of course, but I have to say—I have one of the best chefs in the state of Colorado. Plus, I think you’ve met my son, haven’t you? Theo? He’ll be there, too.”

  I swallowed and glanced over toward Theo, who was back on the uneven bars. His muscles strained as he proceeded to lift himself into one pull up after another. It was showing off, sure, but why wouldn’t you show off if you had the strength to do it?

  “Um...”

  “I insist, actually,” Mr. Everton said. “It’s kind of selfish, actually. I just want to say that I knew you before. You know. Before you went on to do crazy, incredible things.”

  I looked up at him again, smiling and finally nodded. “Of course, I’ll come. It would be an honor, sir.” I said and took another glance at Theo.

  He told me he would let Theo know that I needed a ride to his estate on Saturday evening. Everything about it made me a little panicked, riding in a car with a guy I hardly knew, going to his father’s estate: with the richest people in the state of Colorado, eating some fancy dinner. Were there rules that I wouldn’t know about? Would everyone see that I had mostly been raised on diner food and frozen chicken nuggets?

  When I told Chloe about it that night, her face turned a little sour. She kicked the bottom of her bunk bed and said, “I was invited last year. I heard that this year, Ashley was invited as the girl swimmer. Fuck.”

  I didn’t know that my invite was proof that she was less than in the eyes of Mr. Everton. I glanced up at Chloe and said, “Whatever. I don’t have to go. I would rather stay here with you.”

  “No! You have to go,” Chloe stammered. “Seriously. It’s
the best food you’ll ever eat in your life, and I know how obsessed you are with Thomas Everton’s Olympic team. This means more to you than it ever did to me.”

  “I really can stay here,” I said, giving her an honest look that meant business. But deep down, my stomach flipped as my nerves grew. To be at Thomas Everton’s house would be an honor.

  Chloe shook her head. “No. Plus, I can use it as an opportunity to bring Max back here. Zed is always the track person that Mr. Everton invites, obviously.” She contemplated for a second and then added, “I guess this means he didn’t invite Poppy. She’s always invited.”

  The next day, by the time school started, everyone seemed to know that I had been invited to Theo’s mansion, and that Poppy didn’t receive an invite this year. I was grateful that she didn’t find out till mid-way through Biology Lab when she dropped a glass beaker and it shattered across the floor. It was better than having her find out in the middle of gymnastics practice and attempt to break my arm or something. Mr. Collins demanded that she sweep up the glass herself, and she did with her eyes entirely focused on me. I tried to keep mine down and away from her.

  Chloe was my partner for science lab, and we hovered over our little petri dish of disgusting germs we had collected from around the school, which were meant to impact the moldiness of a little piece of bread.

  “She’s going to murder you,” she whispered.

  “No, she’s not. I can hold my own,” I said, reassuring Chloe. Just because everyone was afraid of Poppy didn’t mean I had to be too.

  “Well, just don’t completely let your guard down, okay?” she said.

  I rolled my eyes and dropped another portion of the school germs from the dropper, down onto the bread. After years of not bothering with lab experiments, I had to admit that they seemed like a waste of time.

  Somehow, I avoided murder-by-Poppy over the next few days, until finally, it was Saturday, and time for Mr. Everton’s special dinner event. The entire morning during practice, I thought I would vomit from my nerves. What could I say to sound interesting in front of this guy? Would he put me on the spot or demand to know what it had been like to grow up in foster care or...? My head swam with possibilities.

  Theo walked over to me after practice. He had ripped off his shirt and stood bare-chested. His muscles glistened with sweat. “Hey,” he said. “I’m going to drive you over to my house today, okay?”

  I nodded and tried to keep my face calm. “Sure. Sounds good. Thanks.”

  I could smell his woodsy scent and I felt dizzy. I wanted to step closer to him and touch his chest with my fingers and gently run them down to his stomach.

  “I’m leaving at 5:15, so meet me out front,” he said and pointed a finger at me. “Don’t be late.”

  As if I would ever be late. As I got dressed that early evening, I felt like Cinderella going to the ball: finally given this chance to become something bigger and better than the girl who cleaned the floors. If only I could tell myself this a year ago, or two years ago, or even when I had first started gymnastics: you’re going to be something. People are going to recognize you. Just keep going. Everything will pay off.

  I wore a dress Chloe had lent me, a black one with a high neck, and then swept a brush through my hair and added a little bit of eyeliner and mascara. I then sat in my desk chair and eased my legs back and forth and waited for the clock to strike 5:15. Because I was anxious, I had gotten ready too early.

  The door creaked open just after five. Chloe opened it wider and grinned at me, then tilted her head toward the door and said, “What is this, do you know?”

  I followed her eyes to find a large envelope taped to the back of the door. “No idea,” I said. “Probably just another death threat.”

  “Ha.” Chloe grabbed it, ripped it off the door, and then kicked the door closed. “I was just at the dining hall with Max. He can eat so much more than any other boy I’ve ever seen. Like, I think he has a problem.”

  Her finger slipped under the top of the envelope and she tore it open. She opened it wide and muttered, “Huh. Photographs.” Then, she turned the envelope over and poured the photos into her other hand.

  From where I sat, I could just make out two figures, standing very close to one another. Chloe’s face fell instantly, so flat that I thought she was maybe looking at a photo of two dead people.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  Chloe turned her gaze to me. It was icy, like even worse than any stare Poppy had ever given me. Since this wasn’t like Chloe at all, I kind of laughed and said, “What? Stop messing around.”

  But Chloe wasn’t messing around. She turned the photos around so that I could see what they were. In the first one, the only one I could see, you could make out the image of me and Max. We stood in the shadow of the trees far off from the main dining hall. We looked like we were exchanging secrets like we didn’t want anyone to see—and Max’s hand looked like it was traced over my cheek and forehead like he was consoling me.

  Fuck. The photo looked really, really bad.

  My face fell. All the blood drained from my cheeks. “You don’t understand, Chloe,” I tried as I felt my heart begin to pound quicker in my chest. “I don’t know who took that photo, but I swear—it isn’t what it looks like.”

  Chloe’s hand shook. Her nostrils flared and her eyes were heavy with tears. “What do you mean it doesn’t look like what it looks like? Isn’t that why they say a picture is worth a thousand words?”

  She flipped to the next photo and then the next photo until she looked like her head might explode. She clucked her tongue and said, “Are you fucking kidding me, Rooney? Like, there have been rumors about you—you flirting with the Brotherhood and wanting to make them all yours.”

  “What are you talking about?” I demanded.

  “You were in the bathroom alone with Theo. You kissed Clinton. And I bet you’re after Zed, now, too. But I never thought... I never thought in a million years you would go after my boyfriend...” Chloe continued. “I told you. This was the first guy I ever cared about. I told you I almost slept with him. And you went and did this? Goddammit, Rooney, I guess all the rumors about you are true. You’re a fucking slut.”

  “Chloe!” I cried out. “Really, if you’ll just let me explain. I swear, it wasn’t like that. Just ask Max about it. He’ll tell you that it was nothing... It was...”

  I felt weirdly blacked out, like I couldn’t fully remember exactly what that afternoon had been, or why I had been standing so close to Max, or even what we were doing just then, fighting like we were. I gaped at her and she gaped back and gave out a little fake stutter and said, “Is that really the best you got, Rooney?” And it wasn’t like I could blame her. Fuck, I mean, she had evidence and she believed this evidence.

  And already, it was 5:12, which meant that I had to hustle out and meet Theo to go to his dad’s.

  “I—I have to go, Chloe. But I swear... I swear, I can explain this,” I told her. I pleaded with her. There was zero compassion in her eyes. She looked like she wanted to destroy me. I wouldn’t have blamed her.

  “Fine. Have a fucking fantastic time, Rooney. Really. I hope you don’t choke on your fucking food.”

  “Stop!” I cried. I gaped at her, incredulous. I couldn’t believe she even had the capacity to direct such anger at me. But there wasn’t time to pause or demand something else. I whirled out of there and bucked down the hallway and felt like my entire body was on fire.

  Poppy had taken those photographs. Poppy had pinpointed my biggest weakness, the only place I felt I really belonged—and she had eaten me from the inside. It was impressive. It was totally cruel.

  But there was nothing left to do. I couldn’t miss this dinner. And it wasn’t like I was welcome back in my room, anyway.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I couldn’t shake my anger and sadness as I walked out from the front of the school. I crossed my arms over my chest and trudged out into the early October chill. Theo stood out fron
t next to a dark grey Porsche. His blonde hair wafted in the wind, and he looked handsome and maybe in his early twenties and magazine-worthy in a black peacoat. His blue eyes latched onto mine and I inhaled sharply as my heart fluttered into my throat. For a very short second, I could pretend that everything in my life that was so damn wrong, wasn’t. A cute guy waited for me next to his very expensive car. What more did I want?

  “Hey Rooney,” he said when I got closer. “You forgot your coat?”

  In my hurry to leave Chloe, I guess I had. I shivered and nodded. How could I explain to him that I couldn’t go back? Luckily, he didn’t ask me to. He hurried around and opened the door for me and nodded for me to slide into the front. “I’ll turn on the heat while we wait for the others.”

  “Thanks,” I murmured. He knocked the door closed behind me and for a moment, I was completely alone in the silence of his gorgeous car. Seconds later, he joined me and sat in the front and rubbed his palms together. He seemed a little anxious, like going home for him wasn’t exactly exciting to him.

  “My dad always does this dinner,” he said. His voice was gritty and deep and I wanted to live inside it. “I hate it. He just wants to show off to all the top athletes or whatever and...”

  I wanted to understand. To me, having parents at all seemed this incredible feat—like how did anyone manage to have a loving family, a comfortable upbringing? I nodded and he switched on the radio. The music was a bit too loud and my ears started to ring.

  “Things have been a little fucked up for you here at school, haven’t they?” Theo said then and stole a glance at me.

  I shot him a look and wondered if he could ever understand what it meant to be targeted by Poppy. Everyone seemed to have a story, a reason not to trust her. She had done all this before, and she had found new and creative ways to fuck me around.

  Suddenly, someone smashed their hand on the window next to my head. I nearly burst out of my seat. Zed stood there, and his smile grew wide and incredible when he realized he had made me jump in my seat.