The thing about Blackthorn Academy? Everyone acted squeaky clean in the daylight. Polished smiles. Pressed uniforms. A perfect little parade.
But when the lights went down, this place rotted.
I knew it. Celeste knew it. And now Celeste was dead.
Tessa had left me to go to the school library, and now I was alone.
I wasn't looking for trouble that night. I just wanted to grab my jacket from my locker after study hall and sneak out before the vultures cornered me again with their questions. But trouble at Blackthorn didn't wait for you to find it.
It found you.
---
I was halfway down the east hall when I heard it—laughter. Low, breathless, a little… hungry.
"Fuck," I muttered. I should've turned around. Should've minded my own goddamn business. But curiosity? Yeah, that bitch was a disease, and I was terminal.
I followed the sound, stopped outside one of the classrooms, and froze.
The door was cracked open just enough. Inside, under the dim glow of the desk lamp, was **Tessa Wynn**—my Tessa. Hoodie peeled off, straddling a desk, hair messy, lips swollen.
And between her thighs? **Mr. Harland.** Our fucking English teacher.
My jaw hit the goddamn floor.
"Jesus Christ," I whispered, nearly dropping my books.
Harland's shirt was half-unbuttoned, his tie hanging loose. His hands gripped Tessa's hips like he was drowning, and she was his air supply. She let out a soft laugh, dark and smoky. "You're gonna get fired, you know."
"Worth it," he muttered before kissing her again.
I slapped a hand over my mouth to stop a gasp from escaping.
---
I should've left. Should've turned around and erased it from my brain with bleach. But I couldn't.
This was Tessa. My sarcastic, hoodie-wearing, ride-or-die best friend. And she was grinding against our twenty-something English teacher like this was a goddamn porno.
She broke the kiss, smirking down at him. "What if someone finds out?"
He groaned. "Then I'm fucked."
"Already are," she teased, rolling her hips.
I almost choked. Jesus fucking Christ.
I stumbled back, accidentally kicking a locker with the heel of my shoe. The clang echoed down the hall.
"Shit."
Inside the classroom, they froze.
"Did you hear that?" Harland whispered, panicked.
Tessa's voice was smooth, unbothered. "Relax. Probably just Vale being a nosy bitch. She'll keep her mouth shut."
My stomach dropped.
Oh, she knew. She fucking *knew* I was there.
And she didn't even sound scared.
She sounded amused.
---
I bolted, heart racing, face burning hotter than hell. By the time I made it outside, my legs felt like jelly.
My best friend was sleeping with our teacher. The one who was supposed to be guiding us through Shakespeare, not… whatever the hell *that* was.
And the worst part? She didn't care if I knew.
"Perfect," I muttered, dragging a hand through my hair. "As if I didn't have enough shit on my plate, now I'm in a CW drama."
I laughed—loud, sharp, humorless. Because what else could I do? My life was already a clusterfuck. One more secret added to the pile wasn't gonna kill me.
Probably.
But the way Tessa had looked right at that door, right through me, her smirk curling like smoke…
Yeah.
It didn't feel like a secret.
It felt like a warning.