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As we walk away, I glance back, knowing this is only the beginning. She’ll have to learn that she can’t just do what she wants. She’ll learn to follow our rules, one way or another.
6
ZANE
We've got Lyric right where we want her now, completely under our control. It's our revenge for what she did to us, for ruining our lives and getting us sent away. She’s our little bitch and we’re not letting up for even a second.
Every morning, Archer makes her bring him coffee from the campus cafe. Every afternoon, she’s ordered to bring Levi his lunch. In between, I have her recording my lectures and transcribing the notes when she’s not doing my laundry or cleaning our rooms.
It's been a week of relentless tasks, and yet, she hasn't hit her breaking point.
I keep waiting for the moment when she finally snaps, but so far, she’s managed to keep it together. We've made sure everyone knows she's a social pariah, turning her into a pathetic nerd with no friends. But even that doesn’t seem to faze her.
Watching her struggle, knowing she’s at our beck and call, should feel like a victory. But something about her resilience makes me feel like the fight isn't over yet. She's tougher thanI thought and it's only making me more determined to see her break.
“Here,” Lyric says, handing me a neatly typed, stapled set of pages. She looks far too alert for this time of day and as I take the papers from her outstretched fingers, irritation bubbles under the surface.
“Are these the notes?” I ask, looking them over.
“Yes,” she says quickly, not making eye contact. “All typed up, in twelve-point font, Times New Roman, double-spaced as requested.”
The bulleted points are made clear with bold headers and the notes look extremely well organized. Unable to find fault, I stuff them in my backpack. “Get me coffee,” I growl out. “Black, two creams, no sugar.”
“What size?” Lyric asks, pulling up her notes app on her phone. For some reason, this irritates me more, so I reach out and push her phone away, making it fall. “What the fuck, Zane!” Lyric snaps as she bends down to pick it up.
Our eyes lock and she gulps, seeing my darkened expression. “This isn’t a game, Lyric,” I tell her, grabbing her and hauling her upright, my hands on her arms. “You’re not simply a little assistant doing errands. You’re our bitch. Start acting like it or I’ll make sure that you regret stepping foot on Sterling Heights campus.”
She squeezes her eyes shut. “You’re hurting me,” she says, voice soft. Releasing my hold, I adjust my backpack on my shoulder.
I narrow my eyes. “Get me the damned coffee, then go clean my room. After that, I don’t want to see you anymore today. Got it?”
Lyric nods, then all but flees and I run a hand through my hair, as I analyze an odd mixture of emotions churning inside me. She’s been acting like this is little more than an annoyinggame to play, she is not taking it seriously enough. I want to see her suffer the way we did, with everything stripped away from us.
“Bitch,” I mutter, stalking off to wait for my coffee on a nearby bench. I text her my location and she returns ten minutes later, handing me the steaming paper cup without a word, then follows me back to Alpha Lambda so I can let her in to clean my room.
Once she’s inside, I leave, taking off to go to the library and study the notes she brought. They’re good, really good. But then again, Lyric was always kind of a nerd, even in middle school. That’s probably why she targeted us, to raise her popularity.
Bitterness edges inside me once more and I shove the notes away, pulling out my phone to text Archer and Levi in our group chat.
Lyric hasn’t been taking this whole thing seriously enough, I text.
Archer’s reply comes almost instantly.
What do you want, then?
I furrow my brow.
What if we made sure everyone around her knew what a loser she is and we make sure she has no one?
Good idea. The bitch shouldn’t be allowed to manipulate anyone else.
Turning the tables feels like a victory. We implement the plan immediately, spreading the word around campus that Lyric Shaw is a loser, a pathetic, attention-seeking bitch who brings others down to make herself look good.
It worked so much better than expected, too. By the end of the day, she’s all but a social pariah, whispers following her everywhere she goes. Alpha Lambda men rule the campus and our word is gospel, as far as the social hierarchy goes.
By that evening, Lyric looks like she’s on the verge of tears when she comes to bring us dinner at the frat house.
“Can I please have the night off?” she begs, wiping her wet eyes. “I need to get my own homework done.”
