Page 110 of Depraved Boys

Any curiosity I might have had about the identity of Cormac’s girlfriend faded with the intensity of my headaches. After two-and-a-half hours, the pain returned to the annoying, background throb I’d had at Uncle Trevor’s apartment, and after four, it became so blinding, I couldn’t think. It got to the point where I had to take paracetamol in between doses of codeine and ibuprofen so that I didn’t collapse into wracking sobs in the middle of lessons.

Prakash sat next to me in Advanced Calculus but barely said a word. Not even to snipe at me to leave the academy. Perhaps something had happened while he was in India because he had been kind enough to visit me in the hospital, and I couldn’t think of any other reason for his regression.

When Miss Weir dismissed us before the bell, he gathered his books in his arms and stormed out of the room. I shot to my feet, but the teacher called me over.

“Were you able to follow everything this afternoon?” she asked. “I noticed you drifting at times.”

“I-it’s my medication.” That was partially true. My mind had blanked for the entire lesson, partly because I wondered what was wrong with Prakash.

“Did you understand the inverse trigonometric functions?”

“I read my prep.”

She nodded. “If you’re following the textbooks in your own time, there’s no cause for concern.”

The bell rang.

I gathered my books and headed for the door. “Thanks, Miss Weir.”

Prakash was probably gone by now. There was no point in rushing through the building when each throbbing pain through my skull made it reverberate like a boom box. I held onto the railing and took the stairs with great care. If I lapsed back into dizziness, I didn’t want to fall down the stairs.

Someone shoved me hard in the back. A spasm clenched my heart, which pumped ice through my veins... I stumbled over my feet, in the beginnings of a summersault. Then my other hand grabbed the railing, making me fall into an awkward, twisted squat that turned my body around.

Bianca Byrd towered over me, her dark eyes burning with rage. The bridge of her nose appeared swollen, as though it was still healing from a bad break.

“What the hell are you doing?” I spat.

Her lip curled. “The police got in touch, demanding that Geraldine and I go down to the station and submit genetic samples.”

I glowered back at her. “As they should.”

“It’s no wonder someone wants you dead when you go around telling tales and ruining lives.”

A breath caught in the back of my throat. Bianca was the first person to acknowledge that someone had tried to kill me. Straightening, I asked, “What do you know?”

“A lot. You’ve poked your nose where it doesn’t belong, and now you’re being punished. They won’t stop until you’re dead…” She bared her teeth in a grimace. “Just like Corrine Gibbons.”

The throbbing in my head intensified to the point where I could barely focus. I clenched my teeth and tried to process the pain. Even though Bianca’s words confirmed my suspicion, she was the last person I should believe about any subject, let alone something as serious as attempted murder.

Righting myself, I asked, “How do I know you’re not bluffing?”

“Call the police and call off that stupid investigation.” She walked past, making sure to give me a hard shoulder check and knock me off balance. “You put the pork ribs in your pussy, not any of us.”

I turned around and glared at her back. “Then you won’t be afraid to prove your innocence.”

Bianca paused on the steps. Straightening, I braced myself for a final insult. A sharp pain lanced through my skull with the intensity of a dagger, making me wince.

Bianca spun and grabbed me by the chin. “You snitching bit—”

I swung my fist into her gut. “Get off me.”

She doubled over and groaned. “Y-you’ll pay for this. Like you’ll pay for suffocating me like a hippo and breaking my nose!”

My stomach dropped. I did that to Bianca’s face? It must have been on that Monday. “Wait!”

She hurried down the stairs. “Fuck off, you ugly, fat pig.”

Blood roared in my ears, adding to the cacophony of throbbing pain and rapid pulse beats. I rushed down the stairs after Bianca, threaded my fingers through her hair, and yanked hard. Her screech echoed through the stairwell, making me cringe.