Chapter 5 Extracurricular

Maeve finally pulled away from Bryce for a brief moment. She stepped closer to him, her voice dropping to something more intimate. "Bryce," she said slowly, "we need to talk about us. When are we going to announce it? I can't keep sneaking around like this. People are starting to talk."

Bryce's eyes snapped back to her. For a moment, there was something cold in them, something that made even I shiver from behind the hedges.

"There is no 'us,'" he said flatly. "I told you that from the beginning."

Maeve's face went pale. "What are you talking about? We've been..."

"We've been hooking up," he cut her off, his voice devoid of emotion. "That's all. You knew that. Don't pretend you didn't."

Her eyes widened with shock and hurt. "You bastard," she hissed, her voice trembling with fury. "You led me on. You made me think..."

"I made you think nothing." He stepped closer to her, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I told you from the start what this was."

Maeve's face contorted with rage. "Get off me. I'm done with you."

She tried to pull away from him, her body tense with fury, her hands pushing against his chest. But Bryce didn't let go. His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and yanking her back against him with brutal force. Before she could react, his mouth was on hers again, harder this time, more savage. His hands found her thighs, pushing her skirt, his fingers digging into her flesh with bruising intensity of his hands.

She struggled for a moment, her fists beating against his chest, but he didn't stop. He kissed her voraciously, like he was trying to prove something, like he was trying to punish her for daring to want more.

And then, slowly, she went limp in his arms. Her body surrendered to his, her hands gripping his shoulders, her legs parting to grant him access.

I watched, frozen, unable to look away even though every instinct was screaming at me to turn my head. This was wrong. All of it was wrong. The way he was using her. The way she was letting him. The way Blanche was barely cold in her grave and here they were...

Bryce's hand moved higher, and I saw him tug at the waistband of her tights, pulling them down just enough. Maeve gasped against his mouth, her nails digging into his shoulders, her body arching into him like she had already forgotten her anger.

I felt sick. I felt disgusted. And yet, I couldn't tear my eyes away.

What was wrong with me? Why was I still watching this?

I forced myself to look away, my cheeks burning with shame. I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be witnessing this. I should leave. I should...

But just as I turned, something made me glance back.

Bryce had stopped.

His hand stilled between Maeve's thighs, and his head was lifting, his gaze scanning the garden with sudden intensity. His eyes swept over the hedges, searching, searching...

And then they found me.

Through the leaves, through the gaps, through the distance between us, his gaze locked onto mine.

I froze.

He stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. There was no recognition in his eyes, just cold, hard scrutiny. Like he was trying to figure out who I was and what I was doing there.

I held my breath, waiting for something, waiting for him to shout at me.

But there was nothing. Just that cold and distant look, like I was no one. Like I was nothing.

"Bryce?" Maeve's voice was breathless and confused. "What is it? Why did you stop?"

He looked away from me, dismissing me as easily as he would dismiss a piece of trash.

"Nothing," he said flatly. "Let's go."

He pulled her away from the wall, tugging her tights back into place with practiced efficiency. Maeve stumbled after him, her face flushed and her expression a mixture of confusion and frustration.

"Bryce, wait..."

"I said let's go."

He didn't look back. He just walked away, dragging her with him, his hand wrapped tightly around her wrist.

I stayed frozen on the bench, my heart pounding, my hands shaking. The image was burned into my retinas, Bryce's hands on another girl, his lips on hers, the complete and total lack of respect for Blanche's memory.

And then the moment his eyes had met mine. The way he had looked at me like I was nothing.

He hadn't recognized me. He hadn't cared. He had looked at me like I was beneath his notice.

Of course he had. Why wouldn't he? He didn't know who I was.

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I stayed on the bench until the lunch bell rang. When I finally stood up, my legs were stiff and my stomach was empty. I dumped my uneaten tray in the trash and walked back toward the main building.

The hallways were filling up again, students streaming past me on their way to afternoon classes. I moved with the crowd, invisible and ignored, my mind still stuck on the image of Bryce's face. The coldness in his eyes. The way he had dismissed me without a second thought.

I wanted to hate him. I wanted to believe he was the monster Blanche had feared. But the way he had looked at Maeve, the way he had pulled away from her touch, the way he had seemed so utterly hollow, made me wonder.

Was he mourning Blanche in a way? Or was he just a soulless heartless killer?

I didn't know. And that was the problem.

I needed to get close to him. I needed to find out what he knew. But how could I do that when he wouldn't even spare me a glance?

The answer came to me as I pushed open the door to my afternoon class.

I couldn't get close to him as Aurora Sterling, scholarship student.

I would have to find another way.

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I couldn't do this alone.

The realization hit me as I walked out of my last class, my head spinning with everything I'd learned, and everything I hadn't. I had Blanche's diary. I had a list of suspects. I had a burning desire for justice that threatened to consume me whole.

But I didn't have allies. I didn't have friends. I didn't have anyone who could help me navigate the treacherous waters of St. Veridian's Academy.

That had to change.

I pulled out my student handbook, flipping through the pages until I found what I was looking for. Clubs. Extracurriculars. The lifeblood of any elite institution. If I wanted to meet people, if I wanted to blend in and gather information, I needed to sign up for something.

The administrative block was a grand and imposing building at the center of campus. Marble floors. Vaulted ceilings. stern-faced headmasters staring down at me with judgmental eyes. I found the office for student activities and pushed open the heavy oak door.

The woman behind the desk looked up as I entered. She was middle-aged, with spectacles perched on her nose and an expression of permanent disapproval etched onto her face.

"Can I help you?" she asked, her voice clipped.

"Yes," I said, forcing a smile. "I'm a new student. I'd like to sign up for some clubs."

She gestured to a stack of forms on the counter. "Fill these out and bring them back to me. The list of available clubs is on the wall behind you."

I turned to look at the wall. It was covered in colorful posters, each one advertising a different club or activity. There were dozens of them. Fencing, Golf, Skiing, Swimming, Photography, Debate, Mountaineering, Sailing. The school's equestrian team. The wine-tasting society.

I reached for a form and started filling it out. Equestrian team, I wrote. I'd always loved riding, I rode a black Friesian named Bella who had a beautiful mane that swept up to her shoulders. Besides, from what I'd learned about Bryce in Blanche's diary, they both were on the equestrian team. It was the perfect way to get close to him.

I also picked Photography and the Debate Society.

But when I brought the forms back to the desk, the woman barely glanced at them before shaking her head.

"I'm afraid these won't be possible."

I blinked. "I'm sorry?"