If You Want Blood

Scene 1: Addington High Main Hall

Heather Blakely

"Yo," Leo called out to get my attention. "Heather."

"Hi," I said, a smile mere seconds away.

"What's your problem?" He scowled at me, and no smiles ever came.

"Excuse me?" I scowled back.

"Elle told me what you and your asshole friends did to her."

"Who is Elle?"

"My girlfriend."

"Hm, not ringing any bells. Good luck with that, though." I waved 'goodbye' and began walking.

"Leave her alone. You're pulling the same shit you pulled last year with me, huh? Not feeding the pigeons?"

"God, I've never even spoken to that girl," I huffed in frustration.

"Oh, so, what? You let Audrey do your dirty work like that makes you the bigger person?"

"What Audrey does or doesn't do is not my problem. It sounds like it's yours." And I have no interest in being the bigger person.

"That's fucked up, Heather. I'm not going to let you bully her the rest of the fucking school year. You don't even know her. What, are you jealous?"

I laughed in his face. "Get ahold of yourself."

"Then stop being a bitch."

Oh.

"See, I wasn't planning to, but now that you've mentioned it..." I look up in thought. "No." He scoffed and shook his head as if he expected a different response. "Call me a bitch again, and it won't be Elle you'll have to worry about."

He glared but held back any parting remarks when I turned away.

I hate him so much. He should've done everyone a favor and just switched schools. It's not as if he ever liked it here.

I walk into the nearest restroom and see a couple of girls by the sink, they look like sophomores at the most. I clear my throat and they turn to me.

"Get out."

The girls hesitate, pausing to see if I'm being serious before ultimately deciding to grab their stuff and leave. No one likes confrontation.

When the restroom empties, and I'm alone, I go stand in front of the mirror and take my lipgloss out of my purse.

Staring attentively at my reflection, I start applying it— carefully swiping the color over my bottom lip and then the top as tears slowly run down my face.

Scene 2: Central Park

Trevor Bailey

"No more paydays after this. It better be done now." I hand Charles an envelope of cash.

"It should be. I just hope your dad doesn't kill the poor boy."

"I haven't known him to resort to murder...yet." I sighed, "Besides, I gave him enough money to disappear after the chat with my father."

"Do you really think he's going to believe the jilted lover story?"

"I'm counting on it."

I've framed a bellboy. I had no choice, there had to be a face to the crime, and I couldn't let it be mine.

The bellboy is a convenient stand-in. Why is there no security footage of Vivian meeting another man in the hotel? The bellboy deleted it. How did Vivian meet him? He works here, he's a bellboy. How did the tape get to my father? He easily found a way. I mean, you live where he works. He's a bellboy.

"Don't make me have to do something like this again. Arthur isn't a man I want to piss off."

Me neither, oddly.

Charles steps out of the way, and I see Ethan come into view.

He waves from where he is a dozen feet ahead.

"Do my eyes deceive me or is that Ethan Carey wandering aimlessly about?"

"I try to be out of the house as much as possible now that my father...can't leave it."

"I'm surprised you can."

He shrugged. "They don't know what to do with me."

I sigh, "does anyone?"

Robert Carey is in hot water for white-collar crimes committed by none other than his beloved son. He's protecting him because if this isn't fixable by their very successful defense attorney, neither of them would be prosecuted as a juvenile.

"I don't understand why they couldn't just shut the club down and call it a day. No one got hurt."

"No one but Elizabeth." He rolled his eyes when he said her name. "Someone has to answer for it. Hopefully, it'll just be community service."

"I feel as though the club was a service to the community."

"I think it serviced some law enforcement and they should thank me accordingly."

"You should've serviced Elizabeth," I chuckled. "That would've saved you a lot of trouble."

"I did."

"Just her."

"I never promised that."

"I never said I loved you, John," I quote Christina Rossetti.

"I do miss her...I shouldn't. But the fact that she'd do all this to get back at me is...very enticing."

"You're turned on by her desire to destroy you?" I said in disbelief.

"Yes...I think I am."

Scene 3: Danny's Van

Leo Rylin

"Here." Jordan passes a joint to Danny.

"I thought you said you were cool," Danny said to me.

"As cool as we could be, but then she came back here and said Elle smells like poverty."

Jordan and Danny burst out laughing—cackling, so hard that Danny starts to choke on smoke. "Shit," he coughed, still laughing in the process.

"It's not funny," I tried to say without a hint of amusement.

"Heather said that?" Jordan asked as if it was hard to believe.

It almost is, but I know she can be mean if she wants to be.

"I don't know. It was either her or Audrey or Alison or Lisa or whoever that new girl is."

"Central girls aren't as nice when you're not piping them, huh?" He smirked.

"Shut up."

"Is Elle mad?" Danny questioned.

"No, she just doesn't want to have to deal with this shit."

"They'll probably get bored of messing with her eventually."

"Probably?"

"Well..." He looked at me through the rearview mirror. "Snapping at her probably means it'll get worse before it gets better."

"If they fight, who are you grabbing?" Jordan smirked.

"They won't fight."

"You better hope not," he said with a sly expression, and I furrowed my eyebrows in response. "You're grabbing Heather."

"No, I'm not," I said, defensively. "I'd grab Elle and make sure she's okay."

"Or you'd grab Elle to make sure she's not hurting Heather."

"Fuck off."

"Who'd win?" Jordan asked us.

"Elle's been in a real fight before...but Heather's punching with diamonds," Danny replied.

"She can't do that."

"You gonna tell them that? They throw heels at each other."

"Shut up," I sigh and lean back against the seat in frustration.

"They're not gonna fight," Danny assured. "You ever seen a chick fight here? No, because they want to go to college."

Yeah, she does. She said Columbia— but that was to stay by me. I don't know where she'll go now.

Pretty sure Elle wants to go to college too.

"This is dumb." And unfair and I don't understand why it's happening.

"Wouldn't want to be you," Jordan snickered.

Scene 4: The Helmsley Hotel

Audrey Michaels

"I found her," Alison exclaimed, pointing to her picture in the yearbook. "Elle Langer."

"I've never seen this bitch in my life. When did he spawn her?" I glare at the photo.

"Aren't you going to look?" She asked Heather who stood in front of the mirror trying on jewelry from Katherine's latest venture.

"No, thank you."

"She's not that pretty," Alison told her.

"She's pretty."

I scoffed. "In comparison to a warthog, maybe."

"It's okay, honestly. I hope they're happy. They can get married and have pretty little warthog babies."

"You really don't care, then?" Alison said cautiously.

Of course she does.

"I had the summer to get over him, he had the same and decided to get a rebound, instead. If it's anything like Jace and Evelyn, then they are a disaster waiting to happen."

"Speaking of Jace..."

"What about him?"

"I just thought that since you're happy and focusing on yourself...that maybe you wouldn't mind if Jace and I started seeing each other?"

Heather turned to look her in the eye instead of her timid reflection. "Jace my ex-boyfriend and you my best friend? Am I hearing this correctly?"

"He's not your most recent ex-boyfriend..."

"Because that erases the principle," she said sarcastically.

"You broke up with him."

"I broke up with Leo too. Want his number?" Heather challenged. "What is wrong with you?"

"I didn't think it'd be this big of a deal."

"Didn't Jace tell you that you were boring with your clothes on? You're taking them off for his attention now?"

Alison shrunk back, sadly. "I'm not..."

"God, Alison, you're so stupid."

She looked at Heather...waiting for her to take it back, I assume. Yet, when that doesn't happen, Alison stands up, grabs her purse, and walks out of the room— feelings bruised and tear ducts full.

I am all for chastising her poor decisions, but that seemed harsher than necessary.

"There wasn't a better way to have that conversation?"

"What?"

"Well, she was simply asking for your blessing. I'm sure a 'no' would've been sufficient enough without all of the extra notes."

She narrows her eyes at me. "I'm sure you've said worse."

"And you always complained that I was being mean."

"What's your point?"

Wow, Heather.

"I suppose I don't have one," I sighed, and she went on taking off and trying out necklaces. I tilt my head and squint my eyes to be clear at what I caught a glimpse of just barely beneath her collar. "Why do you still wear that thing?"

"Wha-" Heather starts to say but pulls out the butterfly charm when she realizes. "It goes with everything." She shrugged. "I forget I have it on most times."

"That's because you hide it in your shirt."

Heather stood silently, touching the necklace in contemplation.

Swiftly, she takes it off and puts it down on the dresser, nodding at herself in the mirror. "This looks better."