Over the next couple of days, Zac and I took turns slipping notes—signed by Tariq, of course—into Lily's locker.

We made sure to modify the style of our handwriting each time to mess with her a little more. Even if the girl went so far as to run a DNA test on the notes, she wouldn't be able to out us without having to reveal something about her ugly past with Tariq. As unpredictable and twisted as Lily's behavior tended to be, I noticed a pattern to her behavior. Every time she fucked up at a school, she would quickly transfer to another one, which meant that she cared, to an extent, about what others thought of her. Or, at least, her father did, and Mr. Sinclair seemed to wield a lot of influence over his daughter's life. It seemed unlikely that she would put herself in a position to be judged as the psycho bitch who drove her ex-boyfriend to suicide just to take us down with her. In fact, I was banking our entire plan on this theory. I prayed that she wouldn't prove me wrong.

Do you ever think of me? Forever yours, Tariq.

By Wednesday, I could tell the notes were starting to get under her skin.

I miss you, Lily-bear. Forever yours, Tariq.

Instead of showing up to school in her usual picture-perfect getup, Lily wore almost no makeup, her auburn hair was wrapped in a haphazard bun, and she had dark, dark circles under her eyes.

I have so many regrets. I wish I hadn't done it. Forever yours, Tariq.

Zac had been reluctant about using his dead friend for revenge. Probably because he was a better person than me in every way. But, being the single-minded, heartless bitch that I was, I somehow managed to persuade Zac to come to the dark side. I didn't feel good about it—knowing my motives were mostly selfish—but I wasn't going to overlook a golden opportunity to take down Lily. Only idiots and children saw morality in black and white. In reality, that shit came in every fucking shade of gray on the color palette.

***

"We're not dishonoring Tariq's memory," I explained to Zac. "If anything, we're going to give him the justice he deserves. Don't you want Lily to suffer over what she did to him?"

"That's easy for you to say," Zac argued back. Pain glimmered in his golden eyes. "He wasn't your friend. Obviously, if someone had pulled this shit on me, I'd love nothing more than to give them a taste of their own medicine, but I dunno if Tariq would have wanted me to do this. He simply wasn't a vengeful kind of guy."

"How can you possibly know what he wanted?" I asked quietly. "He's dead, and you're alive. Tariq can't fight for hismelf anymore, but you can. If you're really not okay with this, then that's fine. We don't have to go through with it. I'll think of another way to get back at Lily."

I hoped Zac wouldn't make me pull back, but I meant every word I said to him. I wasn't going to pressure him if he truly detested the idea.

Eyes wide with uncertainty, I watched him with bated breath.

Zac's expression softened. "Baby..."

My heart skipped. The nerves were getting to me. "Yes?"

"Fuck it. Let's burn that bitch to the ground."

***

I still hadn't told Zac the truth about what would happen to me after my eighteenth birthday. Guilt continued to pull at me. Yet, I didn't know how to breach the subject with him. It felt so overwhelming. I also had other more pressing matters on hand to worry about: Thanks to Lily's nasty handiwork, my title as the untouchable bitch at Ashton Wellesley was being contested at every turn.

Like a hungry hyena and a vicious vulture, Dev started gunning for my position as Model United Nations president, and I knew one of the sophomore violinists, Cassidy Thompson, would probably come for my chair in concert orchestra during our next round of seating auditions.

Dev and Cassidy's lofty ambitions weren't news to me. I didn't blame them, either. Everyone at Ashton Wellesley was always looking to better themselves and climb higher, faster, no matter the cost, but, once top students like us reached a certain pinnacle of excellence, the noticeable differences between us became so minuscule that it was almost impossible to distinguish one over the other in a truly objective manner.

This was why student leadership positions at Ashton Wellesley always boiled down to clout. Before Lily made everyone question my credibility as "one of them," I had cozied up to our Model United Nations sponsor and orchestra instructor to ensure they would stand in my corner. Now? I wasn't so sure about their support, which meant Dev and Cassidy had a real shot at snatching everything from me right before college apps. I needed to re-establish my dominance as soon as possible before Lily damaged it beyond repair.

I think Zac was beginning to sense that something was up. Again, the mere thought of losing him when I needed him most made my heart hurt like hell. I wouldn't even resent him for breaking up with me over something like money because I understood how important it was to families like ours.

For days, I kept dodging and deflecting his questions about my relationship with my dad. It didn't help that things between us were already somewhat tense after my falling out with Amari and Nat. Zac kept trying to talk to me about them, but I only wanted to shove that horrible encounter aside and forge ahead. As I had always done whenever life tried to fuck with me. My chest felt hollow every time I thought about my ex-best friends, and I hated feeling so weak and vulnerable about it.

When Mamma passed away, it felt as though my entire being had been ripped apart and put back together. However, a part of me remained numbed, stupefied, anesthetized just so I could continue functioning as a person. The pain I experienced with Nat and Amari was nowhere near as traumatic or debilitating as the physical, mental, and emotional agony I felt back then, but there were echoes of it, for sure. The sense of loss. Helplessness. Guilt. Confusion. All of it threatened to defeat my resolve. So I shoved all of it down. Down to the dark, scary place where I trapped all of my ugliest emotions. The truly terrible ones that didn't deserve to see the light of day.

That night, I went over to Zac's apartment to study. I was busily finishing up an essay on my keyboard when he suddenly slammed my laptop shut.

I gasped, "What the fuck, baby? I didn't get to hit 'save' yet!"

"Why do you keep pushing me away?" Zac growled in frustration.

I tried to re-open my laptop, but his hand refused to move. I glared at him. "I need to finish my essay, Zac."

"No, we need to talk," he insisted stubbornly. "Can you please stop acting like everything is fine when it's clearly not? You're driving me crazy!"

I rolled my eyes. "We've gone through this a million times already, baby. I'm so fucking sick of talking about it! Just let me deal with Lily first. Then, I promise everything will go back to normal."

Zac's eyes narrowed. He looked unconvinced. "What does 'normal' mean to you, exactly? And what if you've underestimated Lily and all of this ends up blowing up in our faces?"

"Are you scared?" I asked sullenly. "Because I can do this on my own if you wanna back out."

"See? This is what I'm talking about. You keep bitching at me when I only wanna help," he grumbled with a despondent sigh. "I'm just about you. You... haven't been yourself lately. I know you're stressed and hurting, babygirl. About Nat and Amari. About this shit at school that Lily started. And whatever the fuck is going on between you and your dad. I just want you to let me in."

His warm brown eyes sought mine pleadingly. "Let me be your fucking boyfriend, Cate. Please. I feel like I'm losing you or something."

His words were ripping me up inside. My guilty conscience shot through the roof.

"You're not losing me, baby," I said softly. "I'm the one who should be scared of losing you."

I placed a hand tenderly on his cheek. He leaned into my palm like a cat. Then, he enfolded me in his arms and kissed me gently on the lips.

With a tenderness that turned me into a puddle of emotion, he whispered into my ear, "There's nothing you can do or say to scare me away. I'm yours. I've been yours since I was twelve-years-old, Cate. You can trust me."

My conscience raged back forth inside me.

Should I tell him?

My heart felt so full that it might burst, but fear trapped everything that threatened to spill out of me. I decided to pivot at the last second. In the end, instead of answering Zac's heartfelt plea, I deflected once more. With unsteady fingers, I started unbuttoning my shirt.