What does all of this mean? What's really going on? And why?

  Everything has been a mess lately, just like Zoey’s room. Clothes are piled on the bed, books and papers scattered across the floor. Her wardrobe is almost empty, its doors hanging open. The dresser has its containers out on the desk.

  She’s sitting on the edge of her mattress, her head bowed. All those questions are spinning inside her head, a headache she can’t shake off. In her left hand, she holds Hunter’s notebook. It feels heavy, full of secrets she can't decode. In her right, the paper she got from the game, with one name on it: Armani. She has too many things on her mind to care about that stupid game.

  Hunter should pick up the phone. Matilda should call her back. Bryan needs to stop his bratty attitude and give a proper explanation. That feeling of helplessness is consuming her, like a little kid who needs their parents to take care of them. She sighs. She needs to toughen up and stop crying when no one is watching. She puts the notebook down and looks down on the paper. She needs to find something—anything—to write on the back, but it’s harder than she ever imagined.

  How much do they know about him? Would saying anything mean she’s stalking him, or worse, that she likes him?

  She draws in a deep breath and sits upright. She needs to work harder. She can’t bear the thought of being a loser, even in a silly game like this one.

  At his studying desk, Jaiden is doodling hearts in his English book, resting his head in his palm. He looks up at the clock. Six in the evening. He slams the book shut, a puff of air leaving his cheeks. He pulls out the paper he got. Laura. Why her? He knows how to play this game, how to dig for secrets, but he can't do that with Laura. He’s not that interested in her, he wished it was the girl he’s in love with instead. He checks his phone. He's texted Zoey a couple of hours ago, fearing she might be mad at him. Still no texts back from her. He curses his luck.

  In her room, Laura is scrolling through social media. She tweets about how sick she is, one hand holding her phone, the other wrapped around a hot cup of lemon and honey. She sets the cup down on her nightstand, a cluster of empty cups and juice boxes around it. She sinks lower into her bed. The first reply comes from her foster mom, Christina Fox, wishing her a fast recovery. Her foster dad, Paul Fox, has been calling all morning. It’s easier to pretend she’s gravely sick than to explain what’s really happening in this place. She puts her phone on her stomach and closes her eyes, grateful for the anxiety-free day. Crossing her fingers, she hopes nothing goes wrong tonight.

  At his window, Armani watches the oak tree. Water drips from his hair across his face. He wipes his head aggressively with the towel around his neck. The backyard seems empty. The woman is not there, but she’s occupying his mind. Is she a friend or a foe? He still can’t tell. He sits on his bed to tie the bandage around his thigh, but it won’t stay tight. Tossing it at the small trash can, it falls short. He pulls up his shorts. Red, swollen, stitches bulging. Disgusting. He yanks the fabric back down. Time to change into some pants tonight.

  On a cold football field bench sits a lonely figure: Annie. She watches the other cheerleaders chattering in the distance, bathed in the last rays of the setting sun. Today’s practice is over. It was a joke—just clumsy cardio from Coach Sam that did nothing but get her brand-new uniform sweaty. Now she has to wash it before tomorrow.

  Her outfit... just thinking about it makes her shoulders slump and her head sink. Hours ago, she was a different person, jumping with happiness, twirling in the new, frilly skirt. The purple and green top felt like a second skin, a badge of honor. She even took hundreds of pictures to post online. But then, her friends laughed at her and her boyfriend casually called her 'Barney' as a joke. The sting of it made her stomach ache. Yet, he didn't stop there. He went on to comment about how flat her chest looks. She sighs. She's not sure if he's blaming her outfit or her body in general anymore.

  Footsteps crunch on the grass in front of her, pulling her out of the bitter spiral of her thoughts.

  She looks up. A guy from the football team is walking toward her at an easy pace. He’s a brunet with messy curls of dark hair, and he’s wearing a bright grin. "You must be the new cheerleader they're all talking about." He stops in front of her, hands in the pockets of his shorts.

  "I'm Vincent Leonardo. We’ll be seeing a lot of you," he adds lightly. "Looking forward to it."

  "Oh! You’re the son of Mr. Leonardo!" Annie gasps; her eyes glimmer with a spark of genuine excitement. "I work at Riley’s part-time with my friends. You don’t know me, but I heard a lot about you. I can't believe I'm seeing you in person."

  A low chuckle rumbles in Vincent's chest. "Really? How come I didn't see you? I usually go there, especially on the weekend." He straightens slightly. "I'll be taking over some of my father's enterprises next year. Looks like we’ll be coworkers, then." He pulls a hand from his pocket and offers it to her, his grip warm and firm. "It's an honor to meet you, new cheerleader and coworker."

  Annie feels the warmth spread through her palm. A small, shaky smile stretches across her face; it feels almost rigid. She hasn't truly smiled for a while, and the thought makes her eyes sting with tears. She doesn't know why. Maybe it’s because he’s so warm and a bit too nice.

  Vincent lets go of her hand and steps closer, his brown eyes locking with hers. "What’s your name?" he asks softly. "I want to know more about you." His smile twitches just slightly as he notices the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

  She quickly wipes them away with the back of her hand and forces a grin. "I'm Annie. My mom is the manager of Riley’s." She sniffs. "My sister works there, too."

  Vincent’s smile widens. "That’s amazing. You and your sister. It’s an honor to meet you, Annie. You gotta introduce me to her."

  Annie can't help but let out a small, real laugh. She meets his gaze and gives a single nod.

  "Have you met Chloe?" he asks.

  Annie shakes her head.

  Vincent calls out. A thin, bronze-skinned girl with a high ponytail hops over, a casual wave directed at Annie. Annie waves back, her new, tentative smile still in place.

  "Annie, this is Chloe Campbell," Vincent says, stepping back to introduce her. "If you've ever gone jewelry shopping, you've probably seen her father's brand, Fredrick Campbell. The best in the States." He turns to Chloe. "Chloe, meet Annie. She's the new cheerleader, and she's my friend."

  "Nice to meet you, Annie!" Chloe chirps, waving with an almost too-bright smile. "In case you don't know, I'm the cheer captain. So happy to have you on the team."

  Annie beams, her gaze darting between the two of them. "Nice to meet you too. I'm new here. I'm happy to meet you." Her foreign accent tugs at each word, making the vowels sound different. Vincent and Chloe both raise an eyebrow.

  "You're a foreigner, aren't you?" Chloe asks, her cheerleading smile faltering a little. "Where are you from?"

  Annie's lips press together for a second, then nods. "Romania."

  Chloe's eyes widen, her mouth forming a silent "O" of surprise. "Oh, Romania—what's Romania?" She turns to Vincent, a question mark on her face.

  Vincent gives a slight smile. "It's a country in Europe." He looks at Annie as if confirming a fact.

  Chloe gasps, plopping onto the bench and wrapping an arm around Annie. "Tell me something in your language." She giggles, bouncing.

  Annie lets out a small laugh and says a phrase in Romanian.

  Chloe bounces again. "Oh! That sounds so cool!"

  "What does it mean?" Vincent asks.

  "It means 'I'm happy to meet you' in Romanian," Annie says, grinning.

  "Sounds like a cool language," Vincent comments. "You have to teach me some."

  "Annie, do you like gossip?" Chloe asks, her eyes sparkling with a glint of mischief that arouses something sinister in Annie.

  "Yes! Spill the milk!"

  "Milk?" Chloe's head tilts to the side.

  Vincent steps closer, trying to join their little huddle. "I think she means 'spill the tea'." He chuckles.

  Annie nods, a wave of soft joy washing over her. "Milk, tea... whatever! I like talking about people."

  "Oh, we are going to be best friends!" Chloe rests her head on Annie's shoulder. "I can feel it, Vincent."

  Vincent nods. "Looks like you two want some privacy for your gossip. Catch you later." He gives a small wave to Annie. "Bye."

  Chloe's posture stiffens, her head tilting to the side the moment Vincent is out of earshot. "Annie, are you single?" she asks, her voice dropping to a low whisper.

  The light fades from Annie's face. A heavy weight settles in her chest. She wishes she could just say no, wishes she could talk about her boyfriend and her friends. Her body tenses at the thought. She forces a deep breath, pasting a fake smile on her lips.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  "Yes," she replies.

  "Cool." Chloe leans in closer, her voice conspiratorial. "I think Vincent likes you. Do you like him back?"

  "Like… a crush?" Annie puzzles. "Like, he wants to be my boyfriend?"

  She glances across the field. Vincent is chattering with the other football players. As their eyes meet, he flashes a small smile. Annie's heart picks up its pace. He has a charming smile. His curly hair sways in the evening wind, making him look like a Disney prince. He's rich as well; his father owns the enterprise she’s been trying to bring down. A sharp fear slices through her. What if he already knows what she’s been doing? What if he knows she and Armani have been working against his father? Or worse, what if he knows she's dating Armani? Her breath hitches. Her heart hammers in her neck.

  "Yeah. He’s a really nice guy, and you're adorable. I bet you'd make a great couple." Chloe gasps as an idea strikes her. "How about I go talk to him about it? I wanna see you two holding hands and sneaking around." She winks.

  Oh, no. Annie's limbs go cold. This can't be happening. She's sure that guy will make her life a living hell once he finds out what she's doing in this place. And Chloe… Chloe seems to be pushing her into a trap. The light slowly drains from the sky, darkness pressing down on them. Annie can't tell them the truth. Yet, it will all come out eventually.

  Her tongue gets tangled, the words tripping over each other. Chloe’s face softens with concern, but Annie manages to get a few words out. "Not now."

  "Aw, are you shy?" Chloe pouts. "How about the three of us have dinner together? Maybe then you two can confess your feelings. Oh, I must be Cupid!" She squeals.

  Shit. Dinner. With Leonardo’s son. And her friends watching.

  "Chloe, no—"

  But it's too late. Chloe hops off the bench, her arms already swinging as she calls Vincent's name and sprints toward the football team.

  Annie feels cornered. She’s stuck to the bench like glue. Her friends are probably texting her right now about meeting up for their own dinner. Her heartbeat clangs in her skull. She watches as Vincent jogs over to Chloe. They stand some distance away, talking. The stadium lights ignite, filling the field with white glare. Vincent quickly hides his warm smile. His eyes flicker to Annie before looking away almost immediately. The gentle breeze of the evening blows again, ruffling strands of his curly hair against his flushed face. Chloe jumps in place, then turns to Annie with a wide grin and gives her a sneaky thumbs-up. Annie holds her breath.

  Vincent is actually handsome, she can't deny that. Yet, the idea of him feels wrong. What will her friends say? She likes another guy, and not just any guy, but the son of the man who could put all of them behind bars.

  Eventually, Vincent gives Chloe a timid nod. A high-pitched scream from the cheer captain rings in the area. Annie gulps. He seems warm and understanding—unlike someone. Besides, he doesn't seem like bad news, does he?

  No. Annie's chest is a bit too tight. That doesn’t feel right to her. She ducks her head, avoiding Vincent's lingering gaze. The wind feels cool against her burning skin, but her ponytail can’t hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. A thousand worries flood her frazzled brain. She's not sure how to turn down this dinner date. A bright idea cuts through the storm. What if she dragged a friend along? It wouldn’t be a date then, and she wouldn’t be alone if things went wrong. Others wouldn't suspect that she's crushing on that guy either. Her heart settles. She finally draws a deep, steady breath.

  In the cafeteria, Armani leans forward. "Guess what?" his voice is a low whisper, making the others lean in. "I've got a bottle of alcohol in my room."

  Laura's voice raspy from her sore throat. "What? How did you sneak it in?"

  Armani sits back, a smug smile on his lips. "I got some VIP treatment at the gates."

  "You stole it from where?" Jaiden asks.

  "I don't steal. I'm not black." Armani rolls his eyes at his friend.

  Laura smacks him in the chest. "Stop."

  Zoey opens her mouth to speak. "Guys, Annie is not—"

  "Oh, really?" Jaiden barks. "And who stole a diamond ring from a rich girl, huh?"

  Zoey eyes each of them. They might have heard her, but obviously, they don’t care.

  Armani thinks for a moment, then smirks. "At least I'm not black."

  Laura teases, "He's got a point, though."

  Jaiden swears at them and the two laugh. Zoey just shakes her head, turning back to her plate.

  Suddenly, Armani goes quiet. His smile drops. He puts his fork down. "Yo, something is off."

  The others stop eating and look at him.

  Zoey squints at him.

  "The steak is a bit salty," Laura offers.

  "They're serving steaks for dinner. Two days in a row. That’s weird, right?" Jaiden's eyes move between Laura and Zoey.

  "It's a fancy school, so why not?" Laura shrugs, then points at his plate, a playful grin on her face. "Besides, you eat steak with peas. Who the fuck does that? It's supposed to be mashed potatoes."

  "Ah, that's it, then!" Jaiden exclaims. "I knew something was off."

  Zoey’s hands are pulled down to the table by gravity, fork and knife touching the table, waiting for someone to address the elephant in the room.

  Jaiden leans closer and whispers, "Yo, this isn't actually steak. It's chicken. I don't think they can afford to feed everyone steak everyday."

  Laura mocks. "Poor thing, he can't believe he's eating steak."

  Zoey rolls her eyes, running out of patience.

  "No," Armani says, his voice serious. He gives each of them a look. "Something is missing."

  Their expressions fall away, seeing the slight frown on their friend's face.

  Zoey can’t hold it any longer. "And by something, do you mean Annie?"

  The silence is hanging heavy in the air, laced with guilt. How could they not have noticed that Annie isn't at the table?

  Jaiden turns to Armani. "Didn't you call her to meet up?"

  Armani shrugs and motions his head to Laura. "I don't know. Her sister's right there. She should have called her or something."

  Laura leans back, startled. Her voice comes out harsher than intended, strained from her sore throat. "You’re her boyfriend. How the fuck didn’t you notice she’s not here?"

  Armani feels the weight of her stare and the sudden anger simmering at the table. He shrugs again, stuttering for a second. "She's not my kid. Why would I take care of her? You know, that's your job."

  "Are you serious right now?" Laura snaps, reading the guilty look on his face. "Ever tried to man up?"

  "Ever tried to be a responsible older sister?" The words hit back so quickly, so sharply, that they land like a slap.

  Silence crashes down again. Armani and Laura stare at each other, air thick between them. Then, they slowly turn to look at Zoey.

  "You're her friend," Armani says. "Why didn't you call her?"

  "You guys are so close," Laura adds. "I thought you'd already agreed to meet up or something."

  Zoey turns to her plate, breathing steady. She cuts her steak with a slow, deliberate motion. "I'm not going to take the blame for this."

  Jaiden jumps in. "Guys, it's nobody's fault. Don't drag Zoey into this."

  Armani and Laura exchange glances again, a silent conversation is going on.

  "Call her," Armani says.

  "No, you call her," Laura replies.

  "I left my phone in my room."

  "Chill," Jaiden says, pulling out his own phone. "I'll call Annie."

  Annie doesn't answer. Jaiden calls again. Nothing. The messages he sends her are left unread. "Um, guys," he says, looking up from his phone screen. "Do you think she's okay?"

  "I hope nothing bad happened to her," Laura says, her eyes darting between her friends. "I got sick today, and I think someone is onto us."

  Zoey finally looks up from her plate. "Who could it be?"

  "That's the thing. We don't know," Laura says, leaning in and whispering. "What if it's someone in the cafeteria? What if they're putting something in our food to kill us?"

  Jaiden turns to Armani, who is shoving a mouthful of steak into his mouth. "Armani here is an expert at drugging people," he says, nudging him with his elbow. "Say something."

  Armani shrugs, mouth full. "I dunno. Ask Zoey. She lives with Hunter."

  All heads turn to Zoey, who snaps. "And who lives with Bryan and has a bunch of drugs up his ass?"

  Laura exhales sharply. "Guys! Just—say something! Our lives are on the line here!"

  Suddenly, Annie appears at the table. Calm, but with a coldness in her gaze that stops them mid-breath.

  "Oh, Annie! You're here!" Jaiden exclaims, relief in his voice. "We tried to call you for dinner."

  Annie doesn’t answer. She moves closer, resting her arms on Zoey’s shoulders, then enclosing them around her neck in a strange, tense half-hug. Her weight presses on the clueless girl.

  "I don't need your calls," Annie says, her tone sharp with fury. "I didn't come here to sit with a bunch of assholes. I came to get my real friend. Zoey."

  Zoey's brows furrow in confusion. She looks up at Annie's face and sees a pout, her lips trembling as she struggles to catch a breath.

  "Come on, Zoey, let's go sit with some nice friends. Real friends." Annie insists. Her voice sounds broken, stifled with emotions. Zoey hums and gives her a nod. Annie steps back, allowing Zoey to stand and take her tray slowly.

  "Nice friends, huh?" Armani sneers. "If you ignored their calls and called them assholes, they wouldn’t be as nice as us."

  Annie spits, "Fuck you."

  Armani gazes at her, tapping the base of his fork against the table in silence.

  "Who are these nice friends, Annie?" Laura asks, her warm voice soothing her sister.

  Annie's back straightens. She speaks with a tone they are not used to. "My new friend, Chloe Campbell, the cheer captain, and… her friend." A light blush dusts her cheeks. "Anyway, they are nicer than you. I like them."

  Zoey sighs, muttering, "God, I'm not in the mood for this." But Annie drags her across the cafeteria with her tray.

  Armani holds his breath. "Chloe Campbell?" he repeats, his voice barely a whisper. "Did I hear that right, Jay?"

  Jaiden nods slowly. "Yeah, why though?"

  "Oh, shit." Armani bolts out of his chair.

  "Where are you going?" Jaiden asks.

  "To get Annie back," Laura replies, watching him weave through the tables.

  But Jaiden shakes his head. "I don't think so."

  Indeed, Annie isn’t the one threatening his peace now. His gaze sweeps the crowded cafeteria as he makes his way around the other students. Eventually, he spots Annie's table. He sees the curly-haired guy he doesn't recognize. An uncomfortable, stiff Zoey sits across from him. And Annie, sitting next to a slim, bronze-skinned girl with a high ponytail. It’s her—Chloe Campbell. It's really her.

  The girl's high-pitched laugh and overly stretched grin on her face feel like a rope tightening around his neck. He takes a sharp, shallow breath.

  "Oh, shit."

  Chloe's eyes meet his. Her smile vanishes instantly.

  He gulps. One word from her about their relationship, and Annie would kill him.