“But Sebastian ruined it.”

Her upper lip lifts in disgust. “Screw that asshole.”

“Yeah, screw him with a backward stick so he feels pain every time he thinks about screwing someone.” I smile tentatively. “I’m sure this is too late, but I wanted to say I’m so sorry for that dare.”

She raises an eyebrow as if not believing what I just said. “Is this some sort of reverse psychology where you’ll get me to admit my deepest darkest secrets and wishes? You don’t have to, because my wish already didn’t come true.”

“How so?”

“I wished you’d die, but you’re still alive.”

“Oh.”

My heart sinks as I stare at my flats with my hands in my lap. I didn’t think she hated me to the point of wishing me dead.

Old Reina, what have you done?

“Shit. You’re really upset?” Naomi watches me closely. “I never thought I’d live to see Reina Ellis upset.”

“Of course I get upset, I’m a human.”

“More like a monster who survives on being cunning, manipulating others, and screwing people’s lives over.” Her rapid-fire words stab me right in the chest.

Asher isn’t the only one who thinks I’m a monster. Is that my nickname in everyone’s subconscious?

“I told you I’m sorry, didn’t I?” I say hopefully.

“Sorry? Do you think sorry fixes anything?” She laughs with a bitter edge as she stands up. “You can take your sorry and shove it up your skinny ass.”

And then she’s storming out of view.

My shoulders droop as I angle sideways and stare at my reflection in the water.

Who knew behind such a beautiful face lurked a nightmare?

I should’ve had a purpose, right? But no matter how much I think about it, there can’t possibly be an excuse to hurt people.

It’s just wrong. Everything is so wrong.

Another beautifully cruel face greets me in the reflection before he throws a rock in the water, disturbing both our images.

I turn around and scowl at Asher’s face, which is still covered by aviators.

Does he ever remove them?

His broad shoulders block the sun and his shadow falls over me like damnation.

Izzy said Asher played football in high school, but unlike his friends, he chose to study international law.

Why would he abandon that now? We spent three years apart; why would he come back now of all times?

He makes less sense than my missing memories.

“Do you believe how much of a monster you are now?” he asks with a cool edge.

I fold my arms. “I know why Naomi hates me. Why don’t you tell me why you hate me?”

“Why?” He leans forward, filling the air with his sheer presence. “So you can kiss it better?”

“Sure, why not?” I taunt.

“Reina,” he growls.

I have learned a trick when it comes to dealing with Asher: if I cower, he’ll push until I fall, but if I push back, he’s taken by surprise.

People like Asher are easier to handle when they’re caught off guard. It’s impossible to clash with him when he has all his walls up. It’ll just destroy my armor.

“Did I make you do a dare, too?” I place a hand on his T-shirt, my voice dramatic. “You didn’t like the girl?”

He snatches my wrist and holds it in a deadly grip. “Stop fucking around, or you’ll regret it.”

What’s there to regret when I already hate my life?

I lean closer and whisper in his ear, “Show me your worst, Ash.”

On my second day back at college, Bree invites me to join them for practice, but I pass.

She glances at me with a frown, the kind everyone seems to be giving me since I woke up in the hospital.

“Whatever, Rei,” she scoffs on her way out of a psychology lecture. “It’s not like we’re competing for state or anything.”

I pause gathering my books as everyone throws curious glances our way. I swear a phone flashed as if taking a picture of me.

“I just don’t see what I could add when I can barely walk,” I say slowly.

Truth is, I’m scared about facing the whole cheerleading thing. What if all that was wiped clean with my memories? If I can’t remember who I am or why I did all those awful things, how can I remember flipping in the air? I’ve seen videos of myself on the squad’s YouTube channel. I’m one of those who gets thrown and flips in the air before landing at the top. That shit is scary.

Bree closes in on me. The other cheerleaders who are in the same class stand behind her as if they’re scared of what’s about to go down.

“Team spirit, Reina.” She grips the edge of the table hard until her knuckles turn white.

One of the students elbows his friend on their way out.

Bree clears her throat and lowers her voice. “You have to get your shit together or I swear to God…”

“What?” I insist when she trails off. “If you start a threat, finish it.”

“Karma, Reina.” She straightens. “That always comes around to bite you in the ass.”

She flips her hair and storms out of the classroom.

I stand there, clutching my bag and feeling completely out of my element.

My head nearly explodes from the number of scenarios running rampant in it. Could I have wronged Bree, too?

Honestly, with my track record, I wouldn’t be surprised.

Naomi breezes past me with a vindictive smirk on her face.

“Hashtag bitch fight.” She blows her gum into a bubble and pops it in my face. I close my eyes, pining for patience. The only reason I’m not attacking her is because I’ve done something unforgivable.

“Leave Captain alone.” Lucy stands in front of me protectively.

Naomi flips her off. “Gladly, follower.” She starts to leave then stops and throws another comment over her shoulder. “Oh, and Luce, you might want to pick that up.”

Lucy looks around, confused. “What?”

“Your dignity.” And then Naomi is out the door.

Lucy sniffles. I stand up on a wobbly leg and awkwardly pat her shoulder. I’m totally unsure when it comes to comforting others, but I hate seeing Lucy in pain.

I’ve only known her for two days, but she and Naomi are easily the most non-fake people in the squad. She makes sure to fill me in whenever I’m lost. She’s not a follower like Naomi called her; she’s just doing her best to have everyone get along.

She’s a pacifier. Mom used to tell me those types usually have a soft, breakable core.

Wait…

Mom?

How can I remember what Mom told me? I thought I didn’t have a mom.

I mean, of course I was birthed by one, but she died during childbirth. From what I’ve gathered about my life—through Google—my dad has been a single parent all his life, so there isn’t a possibility of a stepmom either.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Captain.” Lucy wipes the moisture underneath her eyes. “I won’t do it again.”

“Do what?” I sound as confused as I feel.

“You told us not to cry in public or you’d have us clean the toilet.”

Holy shit. I was a dictator.