Page 10 of Wicked Titan

Elliot walks up, draping his arm over Asher’s shoulder, and I’m appreciative for the interruption. “Finally, a class that isn’t going to suck balls.”

This class couldn’t suck bigger balls. I ignore the two idiots in front of me and step into the lion’s den. The classroom is laid out with two rows of tables and a walkway down the middle. Unfortunately, each table has two seats and most are already occupied. I move to the back table, relieved when Elliot sits in the chair beside me and Asher chooses a seat across the walkway.

Mr. Willard begins taking attendance, checking off the students as he goes down the list. He calls out my name, glances in my direction, and does a double take. “Well, Ms. Caine, I’m not sure that’s the best choice of attire on your first day of school.”

Snickers sound around the room as I fight the urge to explain my appearance. Surprising the hell out of me—though, why does it, really?—Asher seizes the moment. Because he hasn’t done enough already.

“I’m sure Grandpa Bennett would approve.” My breath hitches, eyes snapping to his amused glare. “Or do you call him Grandpa Barker?”

That son of a bitch just outed one of the few things I still had to myself. Another choice stripped from me. It’s only a matter of time before the entire school knows the latest gossip. Mr. Willard lets his surprise show for a moment, recognition dawning on his face, before continuing down the student roll call sheet without another look in my direction.

Elliot mumbles something under his breath before looking to me.

“I asked you not to tell anyone.” And he chose Asher of all people to inform. It’s not like the asshole needed more leverage. He was getting under my skin just fine all on his own.

“I didn’t tell him. Promise.” Elliot holds his hands up in front of him.

“Yeah, sure,” I mutter. His betrayal stings a little more than it should being Elliot has been Asher’s friend long before becoming my devoted-yet-shitty tour guide this morning.

“Seriously, I promise I didn’t say a word to anyone which is why I was surprised when he already knew.”

“What?” There’s a sliver of hope inside me that wants to believe Elliot kept his word. Even if I didn’t necessarily want to be his friend, his witty magnetism impaled me this morning and hasn’t allowed me much of a choice other than to like him, although I still want to strangle him for introducing me to the “fellow titans.”

“Yep. When you were walking back into the school, looking like a drenched alpaca this morning, I talked to him, thinking he was going to be pissed about you pushing him in the lake. Instead, he just laughed and said he wouldn’t expect anything less from a Bennett.”

“I’m not a Bennett.” That was first thing this morning, it’s not possible that he knew. “There’s no way he knew already.”

“Yep, he did.” Elliot pauses, uncertainty on his face for the first time. “It’s almost like he knew about you before you even arrived.” Elliot turns to Asher with a serious expression on his face, speaking loudly enough for the entire class to hear, not caring that he’s interrupting the teacher’s roll call. “Dude, are you psychic or something?”

A few students turn to look at our exchange as Mr. Willard continues to call roll, like none of us are talking over him.

Asher doesn’t respond to Elliot. His expression remains unchanged as I gawk at him. I don’t care how he knew; it wasn’t his place to announce it to anyone. “Doubt he’s psychic. Psycho, maybe.”

A dark expression covers Asher’s face. “Perhaps a little, but at least I haven’t driven my car off a cliff.”

Jumping up, I lunge towards Asher, wanting to punch that smug look off his face, but Elliot snakes an arm around my waist, pulling me back. Asher remains reclined in his chair, unbothered by my reaction. My eyes stay fixated on the taunting, angelic face masking the revolting soul beneath that is growing more amused as he feeds off my rage.

“Damn, Quinn. Why are you trying to kill him now?” Elliot says as he holds me against him.

“You three, I don’t care how much of this school your families built, this is my classroom. Either stop disrupting or see yourselves out.” Mr. Willard resumes calling names as I stand rigid, attempting to calm down. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes, but I won’t give Asher the satisfaction, he would get too much pleasure from my misery.

“Damn, he really knows how to push your buttons,” Elliot says as we sit back in our chairs.

He knows. My heart pounds against my chest so hard I can feel the thumping in my ears. Asher knows exactly what to say. How does he know that would get a reaction out of me? Had he known mentioning my dad this morning would get a response too? Elliot might be partially right. Asher knows things about me—and knew them before I’d even arrived at this school. But the deeply disturbing part is not that he somehow knew things about me beforehand but the fact that he would use my dad to hurt me. The realization dawns on me that I’ve been a player in Asher’s game all along and I hadn’t even realized it. Slowly turning my head to the side, I stare him dead in the eye, sealing my fate and inviting nothing but torment from the monster who lurked in the corners of my mind since I laid eyes on him. “Game on, bitch.”

8

Longest. School. Day. Ever. It’s finally sixth period. All the upperclassmen are in the auditorium, looking at the elective tables. Each setup has hopes of wooing students to enroll in the class. This school is so different. I’d have a free period at the end of my day if I were at Edgewood. Not here. Here they have every student in school the full day.

None of the electives seem appealing, not in the least. Maybe there is a study hall club or something—anything!—that involves little if any human interaction.

Walking to the backside of the auditorium, the miniature rock wall catches my attention. Running my fingers along the solid stone, an ache fills my chest.

“Hi!” A chipper student joins me, oblivious that I’m struggling to keep myself together, as she highlights the Bulldogger Climber’s Club.

“Is it partner climbing?” I ask, knowing it was out of the question if I had to have a belayer. The only person I’d ever trust was gone.

“Nope. We only climb using auto belays now. Principal Huntington invested in them a few years ago after a student let another one drop on purpose.”