He was there. At our table. Eating his lunch casually as if he hadn't just made my world fall apart. As if he hadn't just leaked my deepest and most darkest secrets to one of the most popular magazines on earth. As if he hadn't just completely shattered my already broken- but almost fixed heart.
I carried on my journey towards our table that sat in the middle of the whole cafeteria, other tables coincidently facing ours to get perfect views of any drama that went down. No one spoke, the only sound audible was the sound of my favourite pair of Loubs hitting the floor. And as soon as I had reached my designated seat I scoured the room, a dirty look etched onto my face as I stared at each and every person.
"What you looking at?" I finally said, breaking the silence. They all looked away and carried on with their conversations as I took a seat and brought out my lunch. A tuna salad and an apple.
For the second time ever in The Elite's history, the first being when Phoebe died, we ate lunch in silence. Not a word spoken between us. The sound of crunching and lids of water bottles being unscrewed were the only thing that made a noise on that table. I didn't feel like talking. And neither did they. Phoebe Thomas was back in our lives again. We weren't allowed to forget, especially since the press had already started asking questions.
And it was all because of him.
He manipulated me in more ways than one, convincing me to spill my deepest and most darkest secrets all for money. All so he could have a little more cash to waste on cars and stupid suits. He was evil. He was no longer the star of my dreams, but the star of my nightmares. I was drowning. Drowning in a pool of depression and anxiety, with him being the only person that could help me. And that he did. But then he threw me back in, leaving me to- once again- drown.
He cleared his throat, standing up and excusing himself from our table, taking his new side piece when him. We continued to sit in silence for a while, all of us swimming in a pool of emotions. Mostly anger and sorrow. He'd fucked us all over. He'd single handedly destroyed The Elite.
Little did he know, that was the biggest mistake of his goddamned life.
"He's not getting away with it," Cassandra's grip on the fork in her hand tightening as we all nodded in agreement, "my parents have already got their lawyers on it,"
"Same," most of the table chorused, all of us nodding our heads.
"But that's only the beginning right?" Fat Susie spoke up, taking Harry's place and sitting in his seat.
We all looked at her in confusion, "He fucked me over too guys," we all nodded slowly, remembering how relentless Susie was when bullying Phoebe.
"We can't spend the rest of our lives planning revenge on him. We can only move forward," I frowned, biting into my apple.
YOU ARE READING
Kingston's EliteTeen Fiction
#1 of THE E L I T E Series "No one ever said being apart of a powerful group of rich people was easy," *Warning, this is triggering and does include self harm, read at your own risk*