Page 66 of Wicked Dreams (Fallen Royals 1)

“Amelie isn’t who I hate,” he answers. “But…”

I find myself leaning in.

“We’re not here to discuss her.” The wall he usually hides behind is back.

I can sense that he’s going to renege on his offer, so I quickly wrap my fingers around his biceps. “If this goes badly—it’s over.”

He winks. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

This is not going to end well.

He glances at his watch as we walk across the football field. “Not necessarily the best timing,” he says. “But good enough for me.”

The doors are already open from the courtyard, and the hall packed. The silence comes in waves. First the people closest to us, and then the screeching halt of the rest of the school rolls down like dominoes.

“Pretend you like me,” he says through his teeth.

I swallow my apprehension and inch closer, smiling up at him. “You look like you swallowed a box of staples,” I mumble.

He laughs. It echoes down the hall.

And somehow, he manages to ignore everyone else around us. He leads us to homeroom, where Caleb and Amelie are perched in the corner.

Liam’s eyebrows skyrocket.

Eli is… unimpressed.

Dead quiet.

“You know,” Theo whispers, tipping his head toward mine, “you’re really putting a wrench in the middle of my friend group.”

“Did I walk into a trap?” I glance up at him. He’s quite a bit taller than Caleb. “Is your plan to say, ‘Ha, ha, I tricked Margo?’”

He smiles. “Not at all.”

And then Caleb is on us, shoving Theo away from me. The force of it must surprise Theo, because he staggers backward. I get the impression that Theo isn’t one easily moved.

Theo’s face transforms into a mask of anger, and he lunges forward. I don’t even think he’s that mad at Caleb—they just want an excuse to hit each other.

Someone pulls me out of the way.

I glance back, surprised at the firm grip that tows me out the door. Amelie.

Her lips are pressed into a thin line, and she doesn’t relent until we’re down the hall and around the corner.

“What was that for?” I snap.

“What are you doing?” She tosses her hair behind her shoulder, glaring daggers at me.

“Me? I walk into a room and your boyfriend goes nuts.” This is what you wanted, I remind myself. “Maybe you should’ve dragged him out here to ask him why he’s so bothered—”

“Oh, drop the act, Margo.” She looks away. “We all know that he only sees you.”

Her mean-girl bravado falls away, piece by piece.

“I don’t want him to.” I’m lying. It’s why I agreed to walk in on Theo’s arm in the first place. I knew it would bring trouble. Theo knew it, too.

If I’m throwing a wrench in his friend group, it isn’t without help.