Chapter 5 Cruel Hierarchy

Look, I don't know who started the rumor that Chase was Derek Thorne's son, but that little nugget of gossip hit Westbrook High like a fucking nuclear bomb.

It was absolute pandemonium after that first whisper made its way around the hallowed halls.

Within a couple class periods, everyone and their second cousin was buzzing about how the tall, mysterious new kid was actually the heir to one of the biggest fortunes in the entire country.

Of course, this was red meat to a piranha like Brittany. The second she caught so much as a whiff of Chase's newly-minted status as eligible billionaire bachelor, she was all over that poor guy like flies on roadkill.

I'll never forget the sickly-sweet False Start she laid on him that day in the quad during lunch.

The girl practically oozed up to Chase, batting her eyelashes and sticking out her surgically-enhanced cleavage for everyone to gawk at.

"Why, Chase! There you are!" She purred in that shrill baby-talk that made my skin crawl. "I simply must get to know the newest most eligible young man on campus better!"

Chase, bless his unflappable soul, didn't even bat an eyelash at the blatant ego-stroke and flirtatious draped all over him.

Dude just calmly closed the book he'd been reading and looked up at her with an expression of polite indifference.

"I fail to see how my alleged pedigree should impact whether or not I'm considered eligible company," he remarked evenly.

It was like there was this current of amused disdain underpinning his words, however inoffensively worded they might be.

Like Brittany's whole practiced spiel of vapid flirtation and transparent ambition was more pitiful than it was offensive.

She blinked twice at the thinly-veiled rebuke, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly like a stunned fish.

Looking back, the whole scene was probably the first time the poor deluded harpy had ever encountered someone completely immune to her shrill siren song of fake flattery and feigned interest.

That's when Brittany's gaze landed on me - just standing there like an idiot and observing the whole mortifying display up close.

Her dark eyes narrowed to dangerous slits as she registered my close proximity to her prized target.

"Oh, Loser Lucy's creeping around your heels again?" She sneered, shooting me a look of pure venom. "I'd be careful if I were you, Chase - who knows what kinds of desperate delusions they've planted in that depraved little mind."

"Actually, I invited Lucy to join me," Chase smoothly interjected before I could so much as open my mouth.

An anticipatory hush fell over the gathered crowd of onlookers as Brittany's head whipped back to him in shock.

You could practically see the gears grinding behind her heavily made-up eyes as she rapidly reevaluated this newest obstacle in her sights.

"I find her company to be restorative, you see," Chase elaborated, his tone deceptively light - almost playful, even. "Unlike others who seem intent on cultivating artifice, Lucy embraces authenticity with humbling grace."

With those softly murmured words, he slid off the bench and moved to stand by my side.

My heart felt like it was about to burst clean through my ribcage as he caught my gaze and held it with that same molten, mesmerizing stare.

"She speaks earnest truths through her art," he breathed, cradling my reddened cheek with the tenderest caress of his fingertips. "Truths that slice straight through the white noise and awaken the spirit anew."

Before I could even process what was happening, Chase leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.

I went completely rigid as the electric shock of that intimate contact flooded through me.

Somewhere in the distance, I could hear Brittany's petulant shriek and the roar of the scandalized crowd.

But the cacophony of chaos seemed to bleed away, muted and distant.

The only sensations that registered were the dizzying blend of Chase's rich, earthy scent and the molten imprint of his kiss searing into the very core of my being.

All too soon, the moment was broken as Chase withdrew, though he remained close enough that I could still feel the scorching heat radiating off his tall frame.

Those forest-green eyes smoldered down at me, twin smolders of rapturous intensity.

"Your light outshines any artifice or grandeur, Lucy Abrams," he murmured, the words dripping like warm honey from his lips. "Remember that when lesser beings seek to extinguish your brilliance out of bitter envy."

With that, he brushed past me and strode away, leaving me standing there reeling and rooted to the spot while the world exploded around me in shocked pandemonium.

Even Brittany seemed rendered temporarily mute by the audacious spectacle, her mouth working open and closed like a gasping fish.

It wasn't until study hall that the ominous weight of what had transpired finally crashed over me.

I should have known Brittany would never let Chase's open defiance and humiliation slide - especially not in front of every braying spectator in the quad.

"Look who finally graced us mere mortals with her presence," came that grating, nasal sneer as I made my way to my seat. "Hollywood's newest starlet, folks! Be sure to get her autograph before she hits it big."

The cackling harpies erupted into raucous laughter and hoots, leering at me with undisguised schadenfreude.

I kept my gaze locked on the ground, carefully avoiding eye contact as I moved to my desk and sat down.

"Aww, what's the matter, rich girl?" Brittany crooned in that shrill, condescending tone she knew grated on every last nerve. "Too good to acknowledge your lowly subjects now that you've upgraded to royalty?"

More jeers and mocking laughter followed that barb.

I tried to calm myself down, breathing in and out as I tried to drown all the noises around me.

Don't react, Lucy. Don't give them the satisfaction.

A sharp sting suddenly cracked across the side of my face, whipping my head to the side.

Brittany loomed over my desk brandishing a balled-up piece of paper like a makeshift weapon.

Her eyes flashed with blatant resentment as she smirked down in undisguised contempt.

"You really must have a magic pair of lips if you could bewitch the great Chase Thorne that easily," she simpered, her lips curling in a cruel sneer. "Maybe you've just finally found your true calling after all - as society's oldest profession."

I flinched as another spitball struck its mark, exploding off my cheek in a gooey burst.

The harpies howled like a pack of demented hyenas, practically choking on their own rapturous glee at the display.

Brittany leaned in closer, her expression twisting into a sadistic mask of undisguised revulsion.

"Let me make one thing crystal clear, trailer trash," she hissed, low and dangerous. "There's no way in hell I'm letting you outshine me at this showcase, you understand? Over my dead body will I let some disgusting, gutter-dwelling cock-sleeve steal my rightful spotlight."

The ensuing cluster of fresh spitballs and projectiles struck in furious, stinging waves as the taunting jeers reached deafening levels. I sat there,feeling helpless as I shielded my head from their cruelty.

And for a moment, it seemed as though it would never end.

Just when I thought my spirit might finally shatter beneath the weight of their gleefully sadistic torment, a thunderous bellow cut through the crazed bedlam like the blast of divine retribution.

"ENOUGH!"

The single barked command ricocheted off the walls, dousing the fevered chaos like a bucket of ice water.

We all whipped around to see Mrs. Wilson, the study hall monitor, standing in the doorway.

The older woman's bespectacled face was pinched into a rictus of smoldering outrage as she raked her gaze over the scene before her.

"That's quite enough of that disgraceful display!" She stabbed an accusatory finger towards Brittany, her entire frame trembling with incandescent fury. "You and your little coterie will be reporting directly to the principal's office. We're getting your parents involved if that's what it takes to put an end to these depraved bullying antics!"