Bea and I ended up leaving the party early with Trick. We spent the remainder of our evening in urgent care to make sure his thick skull was still intact. Normally, my sister and I wouldn't be able to interact in such close proximity without trying to rip each other's hair out, but our mutual concern for Trick kept us from killing one another as we waited for the doctor's verdict. An unspoken truce emerged between us and being at peace with Bea made my whole night feel even more disorienting. I was relieved when a nurse came out and informed us that our brother would be fine despite suffering multiple facial lacerations, abrasion wounds, a broken nose, and a fractured hand.

By Monday morning, all of Ashton Wellesley was talking about the fight at Aleah's house. My brother refused to get out of bed even though there wasn't anything stopping him from going to school except his busted face and a bruised ego. Trick's absence only fueled more speculation on campus. Brit tweeted that he had transferred to a public school after the epic-ass whooping, and Frankie went so far as to tell the entire football team that their star lineman had fallen into a fucking coma. Naturally, many of our classmates were stupid enough to believe them.

Later that week, I cornered Trick's ex at lunch and hunted down Frankie in the boys' locker room. I tore into them to set the record straight. Afterwards, they agreed, albeit reluctantly, to post an apology on all of their social media platforms. I didn't give a shit about Trick's reputation, but, at a school like Ashton Wellesley, shots fired at him would inevitably ricochet in my direction, and I refused to tolerate any kind of fuckery that might be used against me later on. Stanford was always on my mind.

The next day, as I walked into second period, I noticed an extra chair next to my desk. Still in a pissy mood from dealing with maggots like Frankie and Brit all week, I kicked it aside. "What's this even doing here? I don't sit with anyone. Ever."

Mr. Tilton glanced up from his desk. "Oh, that. We have a new student, Cate, and your desk was the only one with an unoccupied seat, so, um, if you wouldn't mind—"

"I do mind, actually. Move this kid somewhere else," I snapped, "I need the extra space for my notes and books and laptop."

"Technically, these desks are designed to seat two students at a time."

"So?"

"So, you should also know that I took a few hours this weekend familiarizing myself with our syllabus. If you want me to start enforcing the rules in the class, then you also need to start following them."

I studied him with renewed interest. Looked like Tilton also grew a backbone over the weekend, and, honestly, I wasn't mad about it. Our class had really started to shape up in the last few days.

I grinned. "Touché, Mr. Tilton. For the sake of upholding our syllabus, I suppose the chair can stay. For now."

With only a shadow of sarcasm, Mr. Tilton said, "Thank you, Cate, that's very big of you."

"I know." Feeling curious, I asked, "Now, tell me, who's this new kid that's going to be sitting next to me?"

"The front office told me that he attended Ashton Wellesley back in middle school. You might know him."

"Really?"

Mr. Tilton glanced down at his attendance sheet. "His name is Zachary. Zachary Mazur."

My eyes bugged out.

No way!

Sweet, shy, scrawny Zac Mazur?

The poor kid had been a favorite victim of Trick's back in the day. Zac was always getting stuffed into lockers and knocked into trash cans. One time, Trick's bullying got so bad that even my cold-blooded conscience felt compelled to step in and put an end to the situation. Eventually, however, Zac's dad got arrested for insider trading, the scandal blew up all over the news, and his mom withdrew him from Ashton Wellesley before I even realized the guy was gone. I couldn't believe he was coming back. I always had a soft spot for that little nerd.

The bell rang. My classmates started shuffling through the door and taking their seats. I kept my eye out for a short, skinny, dark-haired boy to walk in. To my disappointment, that boy never came, but, fifteen minutes after the bell, someone else showed up in his place.

It was him.

The entire class started whispering with excitement. I blinked a few times to make sure I wasn't seeing things.

Tats? Check.

Piercings? Check.

Not to mention, the cuts and bruises scattered all over his handsome face. Unmistakable proof from Friday's fight. Oh, yeah. It was Fuckboy alright.

I gave him a quick once-over. The guy was a living, breathing dress code violation. Untucked shirt, no tie, no blazer, the piercings in his eyebrow and ears had yet to be removed, and, with his sleeves rolled up, the ink on his forearm looked even more obscene close up. He still had the same brown hair and brown eyes from seventh grade, but this Zac standing in front of me was hardly the kid I remembered at all.

He slid into the seat next to mine.

I frowned at him. "What the hell happened to you, Mazur?"

He glanced over. Our eyes locked. "Good to know some things never change at Ashton Wellesley. I see you're just as abrasive as ever, Caterina."

"Don't call me that. I only go by Cate."

His gaze lingered on mine for what felt like a moment too long. "Why not Caterina? I like it better than 'Cate.'"

I gave him an incredulous look. Old Zac would've never spoken to anyone this way, and I was pretty damn sure he remembered what happened to the last idiot who wouldn't stop calling me 'Caterina.' I made Vince Neubauer cry at the fall dance in front of our entire class.

"Only my mom gets to call me by my full name."

"I thought she died?"

I scowled. "Exactly."

He had the audacity to grin. "You're kinda hot when you're pissed... Caterina."

Eyes flashing, I warned, "Say it one more time, Mazur, and I'll show you how abrasive I can be!"

He scooted his chair closer.

I scooted mine away.

Mr. Tilton glared at us. "Cate! Zachary! That's enough."

I immediately apologized, "Sorry, Mr. Tilton!"

Under his breath, Zac murmured, "I saw you at the party last week. I liked what you were wearing."

Ignoring him, I started setting up my laptop to take notes.

"I mean, not every girl can pull off the whole 'bag lady' vibe, but you really put the hot in hot mess."

I kept typing.

"I couldn't stop staring at you."

I rolled my eyes and muttered, "Get in line, creep."

"What? You got a boyfriend?"

"Nope."

His brown eyes danced with amusement. "That's what I figured."

"Fuck you."

"Normally, I'd be happy to fuck anyone, but you're not my type. "

I jabbed my elbow, hard, into his side.

He winced. "Hey, watch it! That actually hurt."

"I hope hit a bruised rib."

Zac glared at me.

"Sorry," I cooed softly, "I get a little bitchy around assholes.

Then, just like an asshole, he asked deliberately, "How's your brother doing, by the way? Did I actually put him in a coma like everyone is saying?"

"Trick is perfectly fine, no thanks to you—"

Before I could finish, Mr. Tilton stepped in front of us and slapped two detention slips on our desk. "I'll see you guys after school today. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Fuck!

My mouth immediately parted in protest. I had a speech and debate meeting this afternoon and plans to study with Nat afterwards.

I tried to talk my way out of it. "Wait, Mr. Tilton! Please give me one more chance! I swear I won't even look in his direction—"

Zac cut me off, "I hate to be the one to tell you this, sir, but Caterina wouldn't stop complaining to me this whole time about how much she hates your class. She literally said that you're the worst teacher she's ever—"

I interrupted, "He's lying, Mr. Tilton! You know me. If I didn't like you, then you'd probably be gone by now—"

Zac jumped right back in, "I've simply been sitting here, trying to defend your good name against this crazy girl. I'm telling you, Mr. T, she deserves more than a deten—"

Mr. Tilton closed his eyes and started rubbing his temples. "Okay, this needs to stop! Now, it's one week of detention. If either of you say another word, then I'll make it two."

I instantly shut my trap while Zac sat there grinning like a dumbass. I had no idea why he was so fucking happy. Once Mr. Tilton walked away, I kicked him under the desk and simmered in silence until the dismissal bell rang.

The second we left class, I chased Zac down the hallway and yanked on his arm. "Hey!"

He turned around. "What now?"

I rammed a finger into his chest. "Why were you being such a shithead in there? You should've let me do the talking. I was trying to get us out of trouble!"

Zac yawned.

"Did you hear me?"

"Yeah. You're very loud."

"Next time, stay the hell out of my way and maybe we won't get stuck in detention for a week. I bet you feel pretty stupid now."

"I don't feel stupid at all. I got exactly what I wanted."

"What? I thought you were trying to get out of detention?"

He stared down at me curiously. "What makes you think I was trying to get out of detention?"

"Oh, I don't know! Maybe it was the way you threw me under the bus with Tilton, like, barely half an hour ago?"

"You don't know shit."

The veins in my neck began to pulse. I could feel my blood pressure rising. "Then, what the fuck were you trying to do?"

He smirked. "Nothing, really. Just wanted to piss you off some more... Caterina."

I literally had to clench my fists to keep from smacking him upside the head. A small crowd was swarming around us. Too many fucking witnesses.

Fiercely, I spat at him, "I was gonna go easy on you since it's only your first day back, and I thought there might've been a little of old Zac left in you. Clearly not. You fucked with my brother, and now you're fucking with me. I'm done playing nice. Watch your back, Mazur!"

I shoved past Zac and stormed off to my next class. As I rounded the corner in the hallway, I heard him holler after me, "See you in detention, babygirl!"