Chapter 43

• Josephine
• I stared at the ceiling, the pattern on it looked eerily like Leila's smirk. My head throbbed, a dull drumbeat that matched the pulse in my wrist. Morning classes had started an hour ago, but the thought of sitting through calculus made my stomach twist. Not that it mattered. My latest quiz had come back with a D, the red ink bleeding into the paper like a wound. Lucas would've seen it by now. He always did. But no call, no text, nothing. Just silence, thicker than the fog that rolled off the quad.
• It's that bitch Leila, I thought, digging my nails into the mattress. She's been whispering poison in his ear—lies about me, about us. Lucas used to laugh when Leila accused me of being god-digging nobody.