CHAPTER 18: SCHEME

RINA'S POV

TEN YEARS PRIOR

Spring break came and went. I spent it in my bedroom, trying to keep my brain from replaying the words Easton spat at me outside his house over and over again. I was mostly successful during the day, able to distract myself with homework and bad TV, but in my dreams, I relived that kiss over and over again. The only thing off was the ending.

In my dreams, I gave into him, and things ended the way I actually wanted them to: with Easton telling me he wanted more than just my body. But then I'd wake up and remember that's not how the story had actually playing out, and the disappointment would hit me like a tidal wave.

You. Your mouth. Your body. Your virginity. It's supposed to be mine so just fucking let me have you!

I replayed those words over and over again anytime I felt even the slightest bit unsure of Easton's actual intentions. Drunk words bleed sober thoughts, and I couldn't be an idiot any longer. I'd heard him loud and clear. He didn't want me, not really. Just my body. And he wouldn't be interested in anything else once he'd finally gotten it.

My mom had said as much on one of the rare occasions she was both sober and awake: "Men only want one thing, Katarina. And they never stick around long after you give it to them, so you might as well charge them for it." Even though I, a high school senior, had a better education than she did, I couldn't doubt her in her one area of expertise. I was living proof, after all. Hadn't my father, whoever he might have been, done exactly what she'd said?

I dreaded waking up on Monday like I was a prisoner awaiting execution. My suspicions were confirmed when Easton didn't even look at me in AP Literature. Somehow, that was worse than when he used to belittle me in the hallways. It just confirmed what he'd already made abundantly clear: I was just a warm body to him.

Monday passed by in a monotonous blur, with Jen apologizing profusely for losing me at the party. She claimed that it was so packed that by the time they'd managed to wedge back into the living room, I was nowhere to be found. Though I believed that to be true, it was the timeline that I found questionable. I suspected she and Sam had gotten a little sidetracked—likely in a coat closet—prior to coming to find me. I didn't blame her, though. She was crazy for the kid, and he looked at her like the sun shined out of her ass. I told her it was fine, that I was happy for her, even if she had essentially thrown me to the wolves just to make out with her boyfriend.

That Tuesday, I was walking to my new-to-me car, Monica's old Honda CRV. Chet had replaced it a few weeks prior with a brand-new Lexus RX, something I was convinced he'd done to appease her after I heard them arguing shortly after Valentine's Day. Their voices were too muffled inside their roomfor me to hear what the fight was about, and they'd hardly spoken to one another since until Chet came home with the keys in hand.

The CRV wasn't really mine. I was just permitted to use it to get to school. Even still, I was grateful to no longer have to ride the bus.

When I got to my parking spot, I noticed a shiny new BMW M4 parked crooked next to mine, with its driver lounging in the front seat, scrolling on his smartphone. I recognized Ricky Cohen's familiar head of black, spiral curls immediately. Ricky was Easton's righthand man and one of the many individuals I'd gone out of my way to steer clear of since the first day of the school.

Just like always, I didn't look at him as I unlocked the car and slung my backpack onto the passenger's seat. As I was preparing to back out of my parking spot, a sudden knock on my driver's side window made me jump. I looked up to find Ricky standing outside the car, gesturing for me to roll my window down. I did, partially annoyed and partially curious about what he had to say. He hadn't spoken a word to me the entire year. What the hell could he possibly want now?

"Can I help you?" I asked, eyebrows raised.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to grab a coffee with me?" He asked, shooting me a thousand-watt smile so big and forced it looked like it hurt.

"For what reason?" I asked, suspicious.

"Mostly I just want to talk to you, and I can't do it here. East will flip shit if he sees us together, as I'm sure you're well aware." When I just looked at him incredulously, he dropped the forced smile and held up his hands. "No ulterior motives, I swear. Easton has no idea I'm doing this and I promise I'm not trying to hit on you. I just want to ask you a few questions. That's all."

I should have told him to piss off, but curiosity got the better of me. Besides, the only reason I'd avoided Easton's friends was to uphold my end of our deal, and what did I owe Easton at this point? I'd kept my mouth shut all year even though he didn't deserve it, and I was tired of letting the agreement between us—one that he'd never once abided by, might I add—control me. So instead, I asked, "What coffee shop?"

Ricky sat down across from me, his cup of coffee steaming as he brought it to his lips. I just looked at him, the chai latte he bought me sitting untouched on the table between us.

"I'm not trying to be rude," I started, though my tone of voice was absolutely a little rude. "But I have a lot of homework to get done. Can we make this fast?"

"Yeah," he said, wiping his hands on his jeans and looking everywhere but my face. It made me all the more suspicious. "I said I wanted to ask you a question, but really, it's a favor. Before I tell you what it is though, I need to explain why I'm asking you, so you don't think I'm insane," he said, glancing nervously out the front window like Easton was going to appear out of thin air.

"Alright…" I said, eyebrows raised, wondering what sort of favor I could possibly do for Ricky Cohen of all people.

"Firstly, I know about Easton using steroids, so you don't have to worry about spilling the beans on that end." I nodded, as though I were still at all concerned about keeping Easton's dirty little secret. After everything he'd done this year, he was lucky I hadn't blurted it out to the whole school. "I know that's the real reason he's so fixated on you, and it's not because you guys are secretly an item like people seems to think."

That was news to me. I had no idea anyone noticed that there was any sort of relationship between Easton and me. Sure, the whole incident with Kyle was pretty public, as was the Homecoming proposal, but that was nearly six months ago. He'd barely even looked at me after winter break, especially after what happened at his party.

"But the steroid use isn't the only thing reason Easton hasn't left you alone," Ricky continued. I stared at him in confusion, and he took a long sip of his coffee, before continuing. "It was that kiss in the closet at Vince's. You turning him down."

"What does that have to do with it?" I asked, my voice surprisingly level for how fast my heart was racing.

"East is spoiled. Always has been, always will be. He doesn't like to be told no, and he always seems to get his way, one way or another. Until you, at least. He wanted to sleep with you, you told him no, and he's been trying to get you into bed ever since. Failing, obviously, because he's never had to actually try to get a girl to have sex with him," he said, rolling his eyes, almost like he was jealous. "So, you're like a double whammy for him, right? Not only does he not want you blabbing about why exactly it is that he managed to take Wellspring to states this year, but he doesn't want you sleeping with anyone else. Especially after he found out that you're a virgin. That's like the golden ticket to him with girls. He's had so many flowers, it's like he collects them."

A tight knot formed in the pit of my stomach on that last sentence, as I remembered how exactly Easton learned I was a virgin. My face got hot, because not only did I tell him I was a virgin in confidence, but I'd done so while discussing the most traumatic moment of my life. And here he apparently was, telling his best friend and acting like it was all a game, like my body was a prize to him.

"What does this have to do with you?" I asked through my teeth, hoping Ricky would cut to the chase so I could go home. None of this should have been news to me, but hearing it confirmed from a third party made it all the more real.

"That's the complicated part. See, I want Easton to think I got what he wanted. You. Or rather, your virginity," he said lowly, his voice conspiratorial. My stomach dropped when he said it and was instantly seething.

"What the fuck is wrong with—" I started, my voice raising, so mad I forgot I was in a public place.

He shushed me before I could finish, looking around the restaurant like he was still expecting Easton to pop up out of nowhere. "Before you get mad, hear me out. I don't actually want to sleep with you. I mean, I wouldn't mind, but it's not a requirement. I just want him to think that I did."

"Why the hell would you want that?" I snarled. "Isn't he supposed to be your best friend?"

"Was supposed to be my best friend, yes. But he slept with Victoria Mason at his party over spring break. And that effectively ended our friendship." My stomach dropped, picturing the pretty red-headed cheerleader who sat at Easton's table at lunch. The words Easton said to me that night when I refused to give him what he wanted flitted through my head before I could stop them, like I was reliving it all over again: I can go into my house right now and hook up with any girl I want. Why the fuck am I wasting my time out here with you?

Ricky must have recognized the knowing expression on my face, because he met my gaze with an anguished expression of his own. "Victoria and I are neighbors. We were best friends in middle school, before either of us started hanging out with Easton. I've been in love with her since, like, sixth grade. Easton knows exactly how I feel about Victoria, and he still fucked her at his party like he didn't give a shit."

"I'm sorry," I muttered, not looking at him, feeling like somebody knocked a hole through my chest. Easton said that he could hook up with somebody else that night. For some reason, I didn't actually think that he would.

But actually, as it would turn out, I wasn't just disposable to him. I was interchangeable.

The hurt I'd been feeling for the past week turned into a simmering rage in an instant. I wanted Easton out of my life completely, to never even look at me again. And if the only thing that kept him hanging on was the prospect of my virginity, then fine. I would get rid of it. Or at least pretend to.

"Don't apologize to me. I can see how pissed you are. Let's get even," he said, grinning at me victoriously.

"But how exactly do you plan on doing it?" I hissed. "It goes without saying that I'm not actually going to have sex with you. So how are you going to make Easton I did?"

"Well, a rumor is out. When Kyle did it, he had the benefit of only ever seeing East at school. If East hears a rumor that I slept with you, he'll come to my house," he said, musing out loud like he was just now thinking it through. I guess he never thought he would get this far. "If he thinks I fucked you, he's going to kick my ass no matter what, there's no way around it. So, we need to be in public when he does. That way, somebody will pull him off me before he does any permanent damage."

"So, what, you want me to publicly pretend to sleep with you?" I asked, looking at him like he was dumb. "I'm not that great of an actress."

"No, I just need him to start asking questions. Once he does, I'll drop the bomb, he'll lose his shit, and we can both live happily ever after knowing we ruined Easton Clarke's day," he said, smiling ruefully. "We need to do this smart, though. We'll start with breadcrumbs. I want him seething for a while before we drop the big reveal. You don't have social media, do you?"

I shook my head. I was allowed to have social media as a foster kid, as long as my accounts were set to private and I was smart about it. I just didn't have a lot of internet access in my previous homes, and I never cared enough to make any accounts.

"I need you to change that. If you make an Instagram account or something, and follow some kids from school, I guarantee he'll follow you back. The guy is paranoid out of his mind about you, and he'd follow you in a heartbeat just to monitor what you're up to."

"Then what?"

"Then, we're going to stage a few posts to make it seem like you're dating someone. Knowing East, he'll probably confront you about it pretty fast. When he does, you'll need to play it cool, act like you're in a new relationship, but stay mum about the identity of your new boyfriend. Can you do that?" He asked, eyebrows raised.

"I can do it," I said lowly, my tone flat and my fists clenched.

"Great," he said, taking a long sip of coffee and struggling to suppress his grin while he did so. "The big reveal will take some luck. We need a party. If alcohol is involved, Easton will lose control, and he'll embarrass himself in front of the entire class. And best-case scenario? He'll be so inebriated that I'll even get a few good punches in before somebody breaks it up."

"So, then just throw a party," I said under my breath, like the solution was obvious.

"No can do. My parents aren't going out of town any time soon, and I don't have the social pull that Easton and Vince have to get people to come. I've got a few other ideas, but that's for me to worry about. For now, just make that Instagram account, upload some pretty pictures, and give me the password. I'll take it from there."

"And what's the end goal with this? If you want Victoria, how is this going to help your chances?"

He laughed, the sound completely devoid of humor. "Victoria doesn't want me. She's made that abundantly clear. And she's not going to be any more interested if she thinks I've slept with you. Trust me, I've tried the jealousy card with her, and it doesn't work. This is entirely about Easton. The guy I've been best friends with for years, who I've supported through thick and thin—even covered for on numerous occasions—stabbed me in the back and I want revenge, plain and simple. He took something that I wanted. I'm going to do the same thing to him. Or at least make him think that I did."