Just pulling in the parking lot of my high school is daunting today. I sit in the car for several minutes trying to gear up to show my face. It kills me. I haven’t done a damn thing wrong, and I’m the one who has to hide.

They should be hiding.

They’re not. I never used to pay them much attention, but now as I clutch my books to my chest and keep my eyes straight ahead, I see the jocks in their letter jackets, sitting on and around the stone half-wall in front of the entrance doors.

I feel eyes on me, but I refuse to look and see if it’s Jake or Carter. They can both fuck off, as far as I’m concerned. Shayne Sutton, too. They can all go rot in Hell together.

“Zoey!”

Even though that’s not one of them, my heart freezes and I look over my shoulder as my friend Grace grins at me and hurries to catch up. The last thing I needed was her to call out my name like that right in front of them and draw even more attention to me, but I know she didn’t do it on purpose. I love Grace, I love her bumbling obliviousness—she’s one of the few people willing to be seen with me right now—but she doesn’t understand what I’m up against. My fault, because I haven’t told her everything, but I didn’t want to stress her out with more of my mess.

As she approaches, she pulls her phone out of her pocket, beaming at me. “Wait up. I have to show you something!”

“Can we go inside first?” I ask, taking a step forward.

“It’s so beautiful out this morning, what’s your rush?” she asks cheerfully.

I don’t want to, but as I adjust my backpack strap on my shoulder, I glance over at the horde of jocks. As expected, I meet Carter’s gaze immediately. His lips curve up and he winks at me, so I promptly look away.

“Come on, Grace, you can show me inside.”

“Wait.” She holds her phone up in my face. I rear back slightly, then focus on the photo she’s showing me. It’s a picture of an adorable puppy in her backyard, its tiny puppy mouth closed around her thumb as he gnaws on her. “Is this not the most precious fur baby you have ever seen in your life?”

“Aww.” I flash her a smile. “He’s adorable. Is it a he?”

Nodding her head, she rubs her thumb over the screen. “His name is Scout. Isn’t he just the sweetest thing? Mom surprised me with him last night. I posted a picture online, but you must not have seen it. How come you weren’t at school yesterday?”

I head for the entry doors, expecting her to follow. “Bad cramps.”

“Oh, those are the worst. Last week—”

Before she can finish, one of the other guys from the football team calls out, “Hey Zo, why don’t you come on over here for a minute?”

I speed up instead. I can’t imagine Carter shared the truth about what he did to me, but having witnessed him in action the past couple days, I wouldn’t put it past him to tell a different version of the story and get ahead of it, just in case I did decide to talk. Tell them all some fallacy about how I went down on him because I like him, or because I was desperate to find some favor with everyone hating me for Jake, to turn me into a pathetic punch line—and a potential target to the other guys, who would think I’m easy if Jake and Carter have both had a go at me.

I hate Carter Mahoney even more than Jake Parsons.

Grace slows down behind me, looking back at the assembled group, then she hustles inside, pushing a chunk of wavy brunette hair behind her ear.

“Are they still bothering you?” she asks, her voice low.

“Something like that,” I mutter vaguely.

“Well, you just keep your head up and don’t let them get you down. No one can dull your light unless you let them.”

Rather than respond to her unsolicited platitude, I glance back at the doors to make sure Carter didn’t follow me inside to terrorize me some more. He didn’t, so I push out a breath of relief.

“We should have a coffee date after school,” Grace suggests, already onto the next thing. “When forces of evil are trying to get you down, focus on the things you love—liked iced coffee, and me.”

I do love Grace, but I don’t have the emotional capacity to deal with her right now. Sometimes she is so unwaveringly optimistic, I want to shake her. Luckily, she doesn’t require much in return to keep the chatter going. A nod and murmur here and there, and she can talk for days without end. It’s probably the main reason we’re friends.

My first classes of the day pass uneventfully, but when it comes time for history class, my stomach knots up until I think I might actually be sick. Will he try to talk to me? Make fun of me with his friends? How will I even be able to concentrate on this test?

I’m a few minutes early, so I head to the bathroom before class begins. I stop before I get there when I see Carter walk out of the boy’s bathroom.

Without time to think, I pivot and race back to the classroom. I don’t want to be there with him, but I definitely don’t want to get trapped alone with him in the hall or by the bathrooms. I don’t think he would follow me inside the girl’s bathroom, but who really knows? Clearly, I have his attention for the time being. I probably will as long as he thinks he can corrupt me. I should hurry up and give my virginity to someone else so he’ll lose interest in me. If only there were some contenders to choose from.

My heart races as I drop into my seat. I sigh with relief, putting my books down atop my desk. A moment later, Carter walks in. I have no idea what to expect. After last night, I shouldn’t even be surprised when he approaches my desk, but I was hoping he wouldn’t.

He doesn’t linger, though. Just places his giant hand down on top of my books and says, “You should join the track team, Ellis.”

“I’m not fast unless I’m runnin’ from monsters,” I inform him.

He flashes me a smile over his shoulder, his golden boy smile, the one he uses to charm everyone. I roll my eyes at him. I’m not fooled by that bullshit, and he knows it. I’ve seen who he really is, and I won’t soon forget.

Unexpectedly, that small interaction does more to calm my nerves than unsettle me. Half of my anxiety today is the uncertainty, not knowing what to expect, what he will do or say, how he’ll treat me. For the moment, I’m relatively safe, because I’m in a classroom full of other kids and a teacher. Carter may be ballsy, but he’s not going to pounce on me in front of a teacher. He could still make me uncomfortable, though.

Despite my lack of concentration studying for it, I manage to finish the test. I can’t help looking over at Carter once I’m done. He finished his test before I finished mine. Because he’s sharp, or because he doesn’t care? Now he’s kicked back in his seat, playing on his cell phone. His attention isn’t wavering and his thumbs are moving across the screen like he’s texting someone. I wonder if it’s a girl. I never paid much attention to Carter’s love life before, as jocks have never been my cup of tea.

I am also not someone they usually notice. Now that a portion of the team has seen me naked, sure, I have their attention, but before Jake noticed me, there’s no evidence the rest of them even knew I existed.

It makes me feel foolish now, how flattered I felt when Jake first noticed me over the summer. Carter wasn’t on my radar then; he was so far out of my league, we didn’t even exist on the same plane. We still don’t, now we’re just bonded by a bizarre instance of abuse at his hands, by a dirty secret I have to keep.

I wonder how many other people have seen that side of Carter. Do all of his teammates know what he’s really like, or just Jake and Shayne? What about girlfriends? Who has he even dated? I can only think of one ex-girlfriend of his in our grade—Erika Martin. She still associates with him since she’s a cheerleader, but I don’t know if she actually likes him. I’m tempted to pay closer attention, to see if she regards him more like an ex-boyfriend, or a former abuser. Was he like that with her? Does anything else get him off, or does he need to do what he did to me?

There’s clearly something wrong with him, but why? Did something make him this way, or was he born with something off in his head? Is he pure evil, or is there anything more underneath?

I shouldn’t even wonder. I shouldn’t even care. I’m curious by nature, but whatever the reason, Carter is who he is, and that’s someone dangerous. Someone to be avoided at all costs. Whether he doesn’t have a conscience or he can just ignore it more easily than most people, something makes him capable of hurting people. Capable of being amused by it.

Carter Mahoney thinks the rules don’t apply to him, and the damndest thing is—at least for now—he’s right. In this little town, football isn’t a sport, it’s a religion. Carter is the star quarterback, the handsome, shiny senior everyone expects to lead us to the state championships. His parents have also bought up half the town, so even if he did get in trouble, they can afford to bail him out of literally any situation.

I’d like to think someday he’ll fall, but the ugly truth is, he probably won’t. He has a dirty, rotten soul, but enough money and privilege that it will never matter. His victims will always be swept under the rug—and if one gets too noisy, I’m not positive there’s a line he’s afraid to cross. If he believes he’s invincible, what does he have to be afraid of?

I’d love to be the one to show him he’s not invincible, but how?

What is important to him? He says football doesn’t matter to him, and that could be true. Football gives him more power and status, so that’s probably what he likes about it, not necessarily playing the game.

Something has to matter to him. There must be something it would hurt him to lose. I don’t know how I would find out what it is, though, without actually interacting with him.

Last night flashes to mind again, him actually having the gall to invite me out to dinner. What the hell was he thinking? He’s so strange.

Now he puts his phone down and opens his notebook, grabbing a pencil and hunching over it, running the lead of his pencil across the paper in careful strokes. I crane my neck to try to get a peek, but I can’t see what he’s drawing.

A few minutes later, the bell rings. Carter flips his notebook shut, then grabs it and slides out of his seat. My gaze darts away before he notices me watching him. I shouldn’t be, but something tickles at the back of my mind, the idea that maybe I can find out what does matter to him, then I won’t be defenseless against him. I may not be able to bring him to justice, but it could benefit me to have some kind of ammunition to use against him. What if I could fight back in a less direct way, by costing him something that matters to him the way he took something that mattered from me?

Grace would tell me this is a bad idea. She would quote some Bible verse at me, or maybe that quote about digging two graves before you start on a journey of revenge. Grace would tell me to be the bigger person, to pray for him.

But Grace isn’t here, and that’s another reason I haven’t told her about all this. Well-meaning as she is, she’ll only piss me off with her unwanted advice. No one is going to tell me how to feel about my own experiences, how to feel toward the people who hurt me. Many have tried before it even got this bad, when Jake’s grabby hands were the extent of the damage, and I didn’t want to hear their bullshit, either.

The hell of it is, nobody would believe me a second time. A lot of people didn’t even believe me the first time, and the ones who did? They didn’t care.

I’m on my own now, and up against someone I stand no reasonable chance of defeating. Maybe no one else will defend my honor or stand up to the untouchables, but I’ll figure out a way. It’s not about hurting Carter because he hurt me, it’s about ensuring that he doesn’t do it to anybody else. I can’t tell on him, but I don’t want to keep my mouth shut and forever wonder if my silence endangered some other girl—maybe a bunch of them, littering the trail he blazes for the rest of his life.

I’m feeling stronger than I have since all this started, since even before Jake. I feel a little proud of myself, too. Carter may have knocked me down, but I didn’t let him keep me there; I picked myself up and dusted myself off.

Of course that is the moment Carter Mahoney walks up beside me and casually slings his arm around my shoulders. My whole body stiffens, but I’m infused with enough of my own protection that I’m able to look over at him and lift an eyebrow, as if unfazed.

“Can I help you?” I ask.

“How’d you do on the test?” he asks casually.

“I think I did all right. You?”

His eyebrows rise and fall briefly, like he only wanted to fuck with me and didn’t expect a real response. “I’m a straight-A student,” he assures me. “I’m sure I did just fine.”

“Are you a straight-A student because you’re smart, or because you play football and all the teachers pad your report card?” I inquire.

His lips curve up faintly. “The first one. Unless I’m hung over and I don’t feel like giving a fuck, then sometimes it’s the second one.”

“I figured,” I mutter.

“Speaking of being hung over, there’s a party next weekend at Erika’s house. You should come.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” His arm is still draped around my shoulder as we walk, and given the halls are packed full of people, I can’t help noticing people gawking at us. “You really shouldn’t be seen with me, you know,” I say, somewhat lightly, all things considered. “I’m not sure even your reputation can handle it after all the Jake stuff went down.”

“Please,” he says dismissively. “I could levitate a boulder with my reputation. Hell, Jake’s not even playing this season; if I really felt like it, I could kick him out of everyone’s good graces and put you on top.”

“That sounds strangely like a proposition,” I state.

He shrugs. “Just saying.”

I fall silent for a moment, wondering how sincere he is. I would never actually consider selling myself out to save something as insignificant as my reputation in this ridiculous town, but if he’s willing to turn his back on Jake for me, either he really wants my virginity any way he can get it, or…? Just or, I’m not sure what the “or” would be in this scenario. I would say, or he likes me, but that can’t be the case. Before Jake made me notorious, Carter Mahoney didn’t even know my name.

“I don’t care about bein’ popular,” I inform him. “That doesn’t matter to me.”

“Above it all, huh?” He doesn’t sound offended, more like he’s taking stock of what he can offer me that will net him better results. “Okay, then. What matters to you?”

Like I’d tell him that. “What were you drawing?” I ask him.

Carter cocks a questioning eyebrow and looks over at me. “Excuse me?”

“In class. It looked like you were sketching something.”

Amusement tugs at the corners of his lips. “Ellis, were you spying on me?”

My face flushes faintly, but I refuse to be cowed right now, in relative safety. “I keep an eye on the predators in my immediate vicinity,” I inform him.

“Likely story,” he replies, with easy charm. “How’d you like the notes I took for you yesterday?”

“Those were not notes. That was written porn.”

“Erotica, then. Don’t be basic and pretend you don’t know there’s a difference.”

I roll my eyes at him. “I work at a bookstore; I know what erotica is.”

That catches his interest, but he keeps his tone conversational. “Yeah? Which bookstore?”

Shit, why did I say that? He already showed up at my house, I shouldn’t tell him where he can get me alone on my way to my car. “You didn’t answer my question, so why should I answer yours?”

“Why do you care what I was sketching? That’s a better question.”

Shaking my head, I say, “Never mind. Forget I asked.”

A few seconds pass in silence. He still hasn’t removed his arm from around me, and a cheerleader walking past stops dead and turns to stare, but Carter keeps moving. Finally, he says, “A bottle.”

“You were drawin’ a bottle?” I ask, skeptically.

He nods. “I was working on lighting and shading. Nothing significant, just practice.”

“For class?”

“For someone who hates me, you sure have a lot of questions about me.”

“You have to know your enemy to defeat them,” I inform him with exaggerated haughtiness.

That only makes him grin. “Are you gonna defeat me, princess? I’d love to see you try.” Tugging me close, he brings his other hand up to grab my jaw. “Remember that little chat we had, though? About you being a good little whore and keeping this pretty mouth shut, unless you’re opening it to take my cock?”

My heart kicks up a couple speeds and I jerk my chin free. “I don’t think we agreed to all that,” I mutter, trying to pull away from him now. I’ve tried to play it cool with his touch, but now he’s pushing farther and my insides are starting to twist up. I don’t want him to know that, so I try to maintain an even tone. “I haven’t said anything. If I intended to, I probably wouldn’t let you wrap your arm around me in the hallway.”

“Let me, she says,” he murmurs with amusement, like we’re friends sharing a joke.

“Does it feel like I’m fightin’ you, Carter?” I shoot back.

“Nope. Finally taking my advice?”

I shake my head, looking straight ahead. “Just trying to keep the peace, puppet master.”

“Good.” He says it calmly, like he lacks investment in whether or not I listen to his warning. “I’d hate to have to crush you publicly. You’re so far beneath me, it just seems mean-spirited.”

“Do you get off by mocking and threatening me?” I ask him.

“No, I get off when your eager little mouth works my cock,” he informs me.

I look left, then right, then glare at him. “Could you not? I’m already referred to by the entire student populace as Zoey the ho. Ironically, for not wantin’ sexual attention from a viable male, but they’re not the brightest bulbs in the box; they’ll probably forget the actual reason and turn me into the class whore.”

“I can stop that, too,” he informs me casually. “My friends set the tone around here. If I make them stop picking on you, everyone else will, too.”

“I don’t want your help. I can guess what kind of strings come along with it.”

“I’m gonna fuck you eventually, Ellis. You should stop fighting it. Hell, maybe accept my help and get something out of it.” Tapping his temple, he says, “Use your brain.”

“You are delusional,” I inform him.

Carter shakes his head. “Nah, I just know how to get what I want.”

“It doesn’t count as ‘getting what you want’ if you just take it,” I tell him.

“Sure it does. I haven’t exhausted all my efforts yet, though. I haven’t resorted to taking yet, now, have I?”

Since his tone seems to convey I should be appreciative of his restraint, I can’t help shaking my head at him. “You really are a spoiled little rich boy, aren’t you? You should try actually workin’ for something for once in your life. Not resolving to take it if your efforts aren’t good enough, but open yourself up to actually failing. Give yourself some real stakes. You might find it strangely exciting.”

Carter smiles at me like I’ve just tipped my hand. “You want me to find you exciting, Zoey Ellis?”

“I was not talking about me,” I reply, rolling my eyes.

“Sure you were.” He finally drops his arm from around my shoulder, just before backing away. “I’ll think about it, how’s that?”

I nod my head. “You do that. Consider bein’ a decent person. See if you can figure out how to do it.”

Flashing me a grin, he tells me, “I’m a straight-A student, remember? I think I can manage.”

“We’ll see,” I reply, before he turns and disappears into the crowd.