Monday morning hit like a slap of cold air. The school parking lot was already buzzing when Zayn pulled his car into his usual spot near the front entrance. Selene sat in the passenger seat, legs crossed, her glossy lips curved in that satisfied smile she'd worn since he'd texted her late last night. Come over. Let's make this official. She hadn't asked questions. She never did.
Zayn killed the engine. His knuckles were still bruised from punching Alex, his eyes still raw from the tears he'd refused to let fall in front of anyone. But the golden boy mask was back in place.
"Ready?" Selene asked, voice sweet as poison.
He didn't answer. Just reached over, took her hand, and stepped out.
