I clean up a little bit before I drive over to Maci’s, combing my hair and reapplying some eyeliner. Deep down, I know this might go over better if I dressed up in my old clothes, considering her address is located on the more lavish side of town. The problem is, I gave my old clothes to the homeless shelter. The lady in charge looked utterly confused when I handed over bags full of designer clothing, yet she gladly accepted the donations .

I guess I could run to the store and buy a new outfit. I’m not broke by any means, having received trust fund money from my grandma last year. I bought my house and a car with some of it and have been living off the rest while I work my way through school. Once I get my bachelor’s degree in business, I plan on attending design school so I can open my own clothing company. Or, at least I used to want to do that. Now I hardly think about my future. My past is too consuming .

Revenge. Revenge. Revenge. The word is a chant in my mind as I grab my car keys and head out the door, deciding to skip a trip to the store to avoid wasting time .

My heart is a nervous mess as I drive the short distance to Maci’s condo then make my way up the landscaped path toward her front door. The sun is lowering behind the mountains, the sky greying, the stars rising to shine in the night sky. The air is a bit chilly for spring, and I shiver as I lift my hand to ring the doorbell .

From inside my pocket, my phone buzzes. I ignore it as the door swings open .

I try not to cringe at the sight of Maci. Long blonde hair, a black dress that I can easily recognize the designer, and heels to match. She’s practically the spitting image of me. Or, well, the old me. And the old me would definitely have a difficult time believing what I’m about to say .

Lovely. This is going to be a pain in the ass .

I at least have to try .

A pucker forms at Maci’s brow as she eyes me over. “Can I help you ?”

I shift my weight. “Are you Maci ?”

“Um, yeah …” She blinks at me, looking lost. “Who are you ?”

“I’m Stella Anderbellinton,” I give her a fake name .

Recognition strikes her features. How, I have no idea since I didn’t even give her my real name. “I think I’ve seen you at the country club a couple times .”

I struggle not to make a face. I hate the country club. Always have. The sole reason of its existence is to give the rich and famous a place to hang out and throw parties where they don’t have to interact with the middle- and lower-class citizens .

Before I turned eighteen, my parents would sometimes force me to go with them. I despised every second of it .

“Yeah, I think we have seen each other,” I lie with a fake smile .

She smiles back. “It’s a great place, right ?”

My smile turns even more plastic . “Sure .”

Awkward silence stretches, so I decide to get right to the point .

“Look,” I start, “I know this is going to sound a little strange, but I overheard you might be going to a party with Travis Marilellie — ”

“Oh, my God, please don’t tell me you’re, like, one of those girls obsessed with him.” She groans, her head bobbing back. “Seriously, this is getting ridiculous .”

“I’m not obsessed with him,” I protest with irritation. “Not even close.” No, I’m just obsessed with getting revenge on him .

“Yeah, right.” She rolls her eyes. “What exactly did you expect to happen when you came here? That you could just show up at my door and scare me into not going out with him ?”

“That’s not even close to why I’m here.” Good hell, was I this stupid? “I came to warn you about him .”

Annoyance flickers in her eyes. “Of course you did .”

Anger simmers underneath my skin. “I’m not a stalker. I’m being serious. Travis is bad news and so are his friends. And if you go to this party with him on Friday night, you might get hurt .”

“Hurt by him or you?” she challenges with an arch of her brow .

“By him,” I grit through my teeth .

“Okay, well, thanks for the warning.” She moves to shut the door .

I slam my palm against it, stopping her. “You don’t believe me ?”

“Why would I?” she sneers. “I’ve known Travis for a couple years and I’ve known you for like what, a total of three minutes ?”

“And during those years, you’ve never seen or heard anything that’d lead you to believe him or one of his friends may have harmed or hurt someone ?”

She hesitates for a heartbeat of an instant. “No, Travis is a good guy.” She straightens her stance, running her hands over her head to smooth her hair into place. “You need to leave before I call the cops. Or before Travis gets here and finds out what you’re up to .”

Fear freezes me in place. “Travis is coming here right now ?”

She elevates her chin. “Yep. He’s taking me out tonight .”

“What about the party on Friday?” Did Travis change his plans ?

“We’re going to that, too.” She rests an arm on the side of the door with an arrogant smile. “We’ve actually been on and off for quite a while, but we’ve been talking about becoming exclusive for months now, so back off, okay? He’s not even going to be available anymore .”

“So, were you on or off when the frat held their annual party?” My voice trembles .

“I was actually in Paris with my family.” She frowns confusedly . “Why ?”

I swallow hard. “Let’s just say I heard a rumor that a couple girls were hurt at the party and that Travis and his friends were behind it … And I’ve heard it might not have been the first time they’ve done it.” My heart is thrashing, begging for the rope around my chest to alleviate the pressure, begging for the end of my pipe to kiss my lips .

Please, please, just believe me. Because this isn’t only about getting revenge. It’s about making sure Maci doesn’t go through what I did .

Her face pales, and for the most relieved instant, I think she might believe me. Then her worry alters into anger .

“You need to leave,” she snaps. “Don’t ever talk to me again. And stop spreading lies about Travis.” She slams the door in my face, leaving me speechless .

“Fuck,” I grit out, my hands balled into fists. “Why doesn’t anyone believe me ?”

What am I going to do? What if something happens to Maci ?

Oxygen slowly starts to slip away from my lungs as the rope around my chest tightens and tightens and tightens. I stare at the door, contemplating knocking again and demanding she hear me out. Maybe I will even tell her how I know Travis and his friends hurt a girl that night .

“Don’t you dare fucking tell anyone about this,” he whispers in my ear. “You’ll regret it if you do .”

I scream through my clenched teeth, causing an older woman who’s collecting her mail across the street to stare at me in horror. Sucking in a breath, I stomp down the stairs and back to my car parked across the street .

I’m about to duck into my car when a Mercedes appears at the end of the street. Not too unordinary of a car for this neighborhood, but the frosted bell silver color definitely is. I spent over an hour listening to Travis tell me about the custom paint job he got on his car .

“Frosted bell silver isn’t even a color they use normally.” He grinned so proudly, as if he made the damn car himself. “They created the color just for me .”

I was bored to death while listening to the story, yet I faked interest because that’s what I did .

Fake .

Fake .

Fake .

I was plastic .

Travis is plastic .

His friends are plastic .

This stupid town is plastic .

That fucker is going down .

I duck into the driver’s side, shut the door, and start up the engine. Then I drive forward before parking a ways up the street, hoping he doesn’t recognize my car. He’s never seen me near it, not that I know of .

After I dim my headlights, I sit back and wait for Maci and him to walk out to his car, hoping she didn’t tell him I stopped by. Thank God I gave her a fake name. Still, what if Travis puts two and two together? What if he saw and recognized my car ?

Fuck, why do I have to be so afraid ?

I wish I could just stop .

Wish I could just let this go .

Wish I could tell someone who would actually listen and believe me .

I wish that night never happened .