I was a dancer trapped in a teacher’s life.

He was a free man imprisoned in his parents’ ridiculous demands and great expectations.

I slouched next to Jaime, blinking away some of my shock. Fuck my life. Principal Miranda Followhill was the one in the wrong. But I did feel shame for caving into this affair with her son.

Shame over who I fell in love with.

Because that was the problem with society. It cared too much about who you fell in love with but never about the why. The why matters. The who is irrelevant (but the band was great, so there’s that).

“We’ve reached an agreement.” Mrs. Followhill’s face tightened into a thin-lipped smile.

This didn’t sound good. I nodded. Barely.

“And I think everyone shall benefit from this little arrangement.”

Another beat of silence.

“Are you planning on announcing it at the LA Coliseum? Spit it out.” I was no longer able to hide my true feelings for the woman.

Jaime snickered beside me, grabbing my hand and squeezing, his warmth seeping into me.

Mrs. Followhill scowled, unimpressed by my sass. “Jaime is going to move to Texas for college. In fact, he re-confirmed his attendance minutes ago on the phone with his dean. You will be let go after this school year. Your contract will not be renewed. You will not see each other anymore. In exchange, I will overlook the necklace found at the marina.”

Her grin was victorious.

Yet all I saw was black.

My hand slid from Jaime’s. Determined not to say anything, I fought the feeling of humiliation. He’d basically refused to fight for us, accepting her demand to go to Texas as he’d always planned. I simply shrugged. Whether he had shitty negotiation skills or he simply didn’t care about me and was just using me didn’t matter. His end game was the same. And guess who was the loser? Yup, me.

Jaime could have easily told his mother the truth. His mother protects him. From anything. I wasn’t naïve enough to believe it was out of love. It was out of prestige and other meaningless things she cared about. Sure, she would give him hell, but she would also give him a way out.

He compromised me.

After he told me he wanted to protect me.

“Are you—have you spoken to the dean?” I jerked my head to look him in the eye. He sucked his cheeks in with a heavy sigh, nodding.

“Yeah. I’m moving to Austin.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“It does, huh?” Mrs. Followhill looked skeptical. Maybe even a little disappointed with my calmness. Her eyes glinted with ire, her lips thin and pressed together.

You can’t win if I don’t let you, I thought bitterly. And I’m not. I’m not letting you see me break.

“Yup. I mean, school’s almost over. It was a nice fling.” My lips curved into a smile, and I felt Jaime tensing beside me. I had a feeling there was a lot he wanted to explain. I wouldn’t give him the chance though.

I hated him.

I hated me.

We deserved this heartache.

I felt his fingers trying to reconnect with mine and folded my arms over my chest, leaning back. I’d suffered enough whiplash from his mother. I was not going to be humiliated twice by getting dumped by her teenage son, listening to some “It’s not you, it’s me” bullshit.

“Guess it’s time to say goodbye. I won’t miss All Saints very much. And I definitely won’t miss you, Mrs. Followhill. For a wealthy woman, your social skills are actually quite poor.”

Translation: You’re a bitch from hell, and I can’t believe I actually thought your son would grow up to be any different. He obviously takes after you, even if he made me believe that he was anything but.

With that, I stood up. Jaime’s gaze followed me, but I didn’t risk looking at him. The confusion on his face was obvious, even if our eyes hadn’t met. For the first time, I’d hurt a Followhill instead of having a Followhill hurt me. It made me feel lighter somehow, and that made me feel guilty.

Did I want Jaime to feel bad? Why?

“Melody.” Jaime’s voice was thick and dark. I shook my head.

“Let her leave, sweetheart,” Principal Followhill instructed, resting her palm on his back.

He stood, pushing his chair back abruptly.

I needed to get out of there. “Yeah.” I threw my bag over my shoulder, collecting my cell phone and keys. “We’re done here.”

I made my way out, leaving the boy-man who broke my heart and his bitchy mother behind me. He was moving to Texas. I shouldn’t have been so disappointed. I pushed him in this direction. And his mom didn’t leave us much choice. But I was hurt, so I’d stabbed him back with my words.

Jaime didn’t follow me.

We’d both fucked up and had nothing to say to each other.

That day, I cried for all the years I hadn’t cried. Buckets of tears. They were salty and sad and desperate.

They all tasted weird.

They all tasted like him.

JAIME DIDN’T COME TO OUR apartment that day. He didn’t call. Not surprising, considering I’d reduced him to a short fling. After continuously pushing him away. After telling him he should move to Texas. After bitching about his best friend.

I wasn’t a good girlfriend.

Nurturing wasn’t my nature. I was sewn together with tattered patches of consuming ambition and shattered dreams. Up until now, I had been stupidly proud of that. Proud that I didn’t let mundane things like love or a man consume me.

But now, when my heart hurt like it was butchered into miniscule pieces, I realized what I was missing out on. Even the pain felt sweeter under the haze of love.

The next day, I showed up to teach Lit, and I was considering suicide by halfway into my third class of the day. The warning had been lifted by Jaime, and my students no longer played nice with me. They laughed, screamed, and talked back. Even more than before, it seemed. My last hour was the worst. Dean and Millie were silent, but Trent Rexroth went the extra mile and fingered Keeley, who sat next to him, under his desk, all while keeping a straight face and talking about the future of the Raiders with Vicious extra-loudly.

Asking Trent to put his hands where I could see them only drew more attention to him and the chick he was making out with, and I heard snickers when I turned my back to produce a book from my bag, probably because he shoved his tongue into her throat the minute he left my line of sight.

It was hell, and it was exactly where I deserved to be.

Jaime wasn’t in class, even though it was the last time I would have taught him. It only confirmed what I already knew: Trent did what he did on purpose, and on Jaime’s behalf.

They all hated me.

My heart sank in disappointment. I tried to concentrate on teaching, but my mind kept drifting to him.

I’d fucked up.

I didn’t even give him the chance to explain after the meeting with his mom. Just naturally assumed he’d betrayed me. But it was Jaime. Jaime never betrayed anyone. He stood by those he cared about. Even by Vicious…

Vicious.

When the bell rang, I rose from my seat, piercing Jaime’s BFF with my eyes.

“Baron.” I signaled him to come closer.

He snorted but did as I asked. The classroom had already emptied, leaving just the two of us sizing each other up suspiciously.

“Where’s Jaime?” I asked, rubbing my tired eyes. I didn’t sleep much last night.

“The fuck do you care?” He tucked a cigarette between his lips, lighting it in class casually. “You keep tabs on all your flings?” he mumbled, the cigarette between his lips.

Someone was bitter.

“I need to talk to him,” I said, ignoring the jab.

“Am I stopping you?”

“Tell me where he is.”

He shrugged. “I’m not his goddamned secretary. Call him.”

“He won’t pick up,” I cried in annoyance.

Vicious slid his thumb across his cheek with the hand that held his cigarette, deep in thought. “Yeah, he won’t.” His voice was chillingly flat. “He’s at my house. Sulking like a little bitch. I’d invite you over to cheer him up, but I’m not sure if you wanna give him a lippy rant for saving your ass or a blow job for fucking up.”

“I need to talk to him.” The urgency in my voice scared me. The need to make this right was overwhelming. I just wanted us to work this out.

“I’m not him.” Vicious’s lifeless eyes held mine, sucking me in. “I don’t do forgiveness, so if you hurt him again, the outcome will be devastating. To you.”

Gulp. “I just want to fix this, Baron.”

“My name is Vicious,” he growled.

Goddammit. This kid.

“Let me see him. I promise, my intentions are good.”

The HotHoles’ brotherhood was almost touching, if it weren’t for the fact that these boys had way too much power. Over me. Over this town. Over everyone.

Vicious tilted his head to the door, and I followed him to his brooding stone and brick mansion, my Ford stalking his Mercedes.

It was the longest journey I ever had to take, other than my flight back home from New York and Julliard.

But it was the shortest trip to insanity. My love was madness.

And I was ready to fight for it.

HE WAS IN THE POOL. In the goddamn fucking pool. Doing laps. His long, lean sculpted body shooting like an arrow from one end to the other. I stood over the edge, not sure if I wanted to jump his bones, apologize, or yell at him. When he raised his head from the azure waterline, dark blond locks raining water drops over his perfect face, my thighs clenched.

“You look heartbroken,” I assessed sarcastically.

He rested his arms on the tiles and flashed me his straight teeth. But this wasn’t a smile, it was a warning. “And you look like an animal out of its natural habitat. Missed me that much, Ms. G?”

“You didn’t come to school today.” My voice was grave.

“So? School year is practically over, and it’s not like you give a shit. I’m just a fling, remember? Your words.”