WHISPERED TEMPTATIONS

Senior Year - 2012

「 ✦ Halsey's POV ✦ 」

PROLOGUE

Tyler Henderson—golden-haired football linebacker and team captain who, until that moment, I'd believed was genuinely my boyfriend—had orchestrated the whole thing with his friends and his actual girlfriend — Carly Johannson.

Thunderous laughter echoed off the walls as the gym’s main lights flickered on in the decorated gym. The cheerleading squad, perfect in their matching teal dresses, pointed and whispered behind French-manicured fingertips.

Soggy gray gym socks clung to my shoulders like dead animals while the plastic homecoming tiara—the one they'd convinced me I'd actually won—lay cracked from my fall next to me.

Tyler's mocking self-satisfied smile stretched across his handsome face – The same face I’d spent the last few months daydreaming about, still in wonder I was dating the one person all the girls wished they could be with.

He stood in front of me, towering over me with his tall, muscular frame. He had his arm wrapped around Carly's waist as she stood beside him, her glossy lips curled at the corners, eyes narrowed to slits of mascara and contempt. The air between us felt thick with their shared smugness, like a physical weight pressing against my chest, forcing acid up my throat. Their body language spoke of arrogance and superiority, making my stomach turn.

"You didn't honestly believe," Tyler drawled, each syllable stretched for maximum effect, "that I could like a whale like you, when Carly is ten times better?"

I didn't say anything, but I could feel my chin quivering, as I stared at Tyler and Carly through the blur of hot tears threatening to spill. The gym's fluorescent lights seemed to intensify, highlighting every face turned toward me in cruel amusement.

My only hope was that the scuffed linoleum floor would crack open and swallow me into merciful darkness as laughter ricocheted off the walls.

Smartphones rose from the crowd like periscopes, capturing my humiliation from every angle—me sitting in a puddle of pickle juice and dirty gym socks, that had already soaked through my dress, cold against my thighs. My carefully applied make-up ran in inky rivulets down my cheeks, staining the delicate lace trim of my white dress like black tears.

Carly's pink lips curled into a predatory smile as she raised her rose-gold iPhone, the camera lens glinting like a sniper's scope aimed directly at me.

"You should see your face right now," Carly purred, her smile getting more predatory by the second, but her ice-blue eyes cold and calculating.

Her voice dripped with honeyed venom, each syllable carefully crafted to cut. "That's exactly the reaction I was betting on!” She tittered as she continued to take pictures before putting her phone back in her clutch. “A group of us started a game you see— we wanted to see if Tyler could date the ugliest girl in our grade and make her believe he actually liked her. Because of how smart you, you know, with your perfect little GPA and grades and all, I bet it would take three weeks for you to catch on. But Tyler here, he bet two months!" She tossed her blonde hair over one shoulder, the lights catching on her diamond earrings. "But it's been six months and you never figured it out!" Her laughter rang out sharp as breaking glass, in the now silent gym, as everyone listened attentively.

"You really thought he liked you? You never questioned why he never took you out or even on dates, or kissed you? Why he didn’t sit with you at lunch and only hung out with you during free period? For someone who's supposedly so smart, you really are f*****g stupid!" Her manicured fingers fluttered in the air before her; her eyes flicked dismissively down my body and back up.

Her words sliced through my chest like jagged glass, each word carving deeper into my heart as memories of Tyler's false smiles and empty promises flickered behind my eyes like a broken film reel. She stood over me, designer dress hugging her curves, manicured nails tapping against her crossed arms as venom dripped from her lips.

"You—of all people, actually thought Tyler liked you?" She laughed, throwing her head back.

"You were nothing more than a game to help us survive this mind-numbing year, and in the end—" she leaned forward, her curtain of hair swinging forward, as her Chanel No. 5 perfume clouded my senses, "—you weren't even entertaining enough to distract us past the first six weeks. How f*****g pathetic." Her voice flattened to a monotone as her perfect nose wrinkled like she'd stepped in something foul, her eyes hardening to polished stone.

"What's even the point of your existence besides being a fat, ugly whale consuming our oxygen?"

The tears that I had been holding back finally broke free, hot and stinging my cheeks as they rolled down my flushed cheeks.

I stared at the boy, I thought I was starting to love. His smirking face, the same face I'd traced with my fingertips in daydreams the last few months, watching me with amusement.

The laughter around us echoed off the gymnasium walls. I couldn’t understand why, couldn’t make sense of how people could be so cruel.

My fingernails dug crescents into my palms as white-hot rage coursed through me, but then I spotted it—the delicate tennis bracelet Dad had fastened to my wrist with such pride right before I left the house, an heirloom from his grandma.

It now lay shattered on the ground. The platinum clasp had separated, tiny diamonds scattered like lost stars across the floor, sitting in a puddle, glinting under the harsh lights.

My shoulders slumped, defeat washing over me in a cold wave. I felt like I couldn’t go on like this anymore, despair causing my mind to spiral, until a familiar voice pierced the crowd's jeering.

I slowly looked up through mascara-smudged lashes to see Hazel, my baby sister.

Her emerald green homecoming dress hiked up as she held it off the floor, tears glistening in her eyes, her heart-shaped face red with anger. She elbowed and shoved her way through the wall of onlookers, her friends close behind, as she ran towards me.

Hazel wrapped her slender arms around me as she knelt down beside me after breaking through the crowd, kneeling in the sticky puddle of pickle juice, the vinegar scent sharp in my nostrils.

Her beautiful silk dress—the one Mom had bought her for homecoming —soaked up the liquid, but she didn't even glance down.

"Zizi, I'm here," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Don't look at anyone else, only me. I'm all that matters. I called Daddy and he should be here any minute."

Her hazel eyes, which had always matched her name, were muddied with emotion, tears she had been holding back finally spilled down her soft cheeks as she wiped my own tears away with trembling fingers, wrapping her arms firmly around my neck, her familiar vanilla perfume enveloping me.

Neither of my sisters had truly known the extent of the torment I suffered daily—the whispers, the shoves, the cruel notes left in my locker. I always tried to hide it, swallowing my pain behind forced smiles, because I didn't want them to get involved and or be victimized next.

But today Hazel finally witnessed the ugly truth of it all. The look on her face broke my heart. She was so shattered over it. I could see the anger flashing in her eyes and the sadness pulling at her mouth, but I could also see the guilt etched into the furrow between her brows, and in the depth of her eyes, she had never realized how bad it was until now.

Guilt ate at me as I stared off at the water-stained ceiling tiles, but it took a back seat to the numbness and fatigue I was feeling. I was just Tired of it all.

Hazel pulled herself away from me after a moment and rose to her full height, her amber eyes narrowing to slits, almost glowing in her anger.

She glared at Tyler and Carly's and their little entourage. I could see the slight hesitation in their smug expressions—the way Tyler's smile faltered at the corners, how Carly's fingers tightened around her designer clutch.

Everyone knew better than to provoke my sister. Her reputation preceded her through every hallway of Westlake High—the freshman with the volcanic temper and the social currency of a senior. Her dark curly hair seemed to crackle with electricity as she stepped forward, her delicate features transformed into something beautiful and dangerous.

"How DARE you!" she spat, her voice trembling with barely contained fury. "Playing with people's lives like you're some kind of god!" She jabbed a finger toward Tyler's chest, close enough to make him flinch but not quite touching. "Who gave you the right to treat anyone this way? To use people as your personal entertainment?" Her voice rose with each question, the veins in her neck becoming visible. "WHO THE f**k DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?" The words exploded from her, echoing across the now silent gym.

"Tormenting innocent people because you're too pathetic and dumb to actually pay attention in school and focus on the important things, knowing you can rely on daddy and mommy’s money to get you through life! Now that is f*****g PATHETIC” She spat, her face getting closed to Tylers.

Her anger crackled around her like a live wire, shoulders tensed and fists clenched so tight her knuckles blanched white. I stood up on trembling legs, the cold sweat of humiliation still trickling down my spine.

I was worried she would start swinging on someone, so I grabbed her wrist, feeling the rapid thrum of her pulse beneath my fingertips. She whipped around, nostrils flared, but the inferno in her hazel eyes dimmed when they met mine. I shook my head, a barely perceptible movement, and drew her to my side.

"This isn't worth your time or energy," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "Let's just go home. I can't be here for another second." She stared at me, her chest heaving beneath her dress, before her chin dipped in a reluctant nod.

I attempted a smile that felt more like a grimace. Bending down, I retrieved my bracelet—silver clasp scattered like broken promises across the floor. My throat tightened at the sight of the delicate bracelet, now bent beyond repair. I slipped it into my clutch and scanned the gymnasium one last time.

Dozens of eyes followed our every move, some pitying, others gleefully cruel.

I knew with bone-deep certainty that I would never—COULD never—walk these halls again.

With my chin lifted against the weight of their stares and my sister's warm fingers intertwined with mine, I pushed through the double doors into the crisp Autumn night.

The scent of fallen leaves and distant woodsmoke filled my lungs as I fought to keep the hot tears contained behind my eyelids until I could finally, mercifully, be alone.

At the curb, I watched my dad's silver BMW screech into the parking lot and lurch to a stop in the fire lane, the driver's door flying open before the engine even cut off. His face was a thundercloud, jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle twitching from thirty feet away, but his gaze softened when he saw my sister and I walking towards him.

His long legs ate up the distance between us in seconds, shoes slapping against the asphalt. Before I could even wipe my swollen eyes, I was swept against his sandalwood-scented shirt, my feet leaving the ground.

"I'm so sorry, Babygirl, I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking on the second "sorry." His arms formed a fortress around me, one hand cradling the back of my head where it throbbed still from hitting the gym floor.

The tears I had fought so hard to contain spilled hot and fast down my cheeks, soaking into his shirt while my shoulders shook with silent sobs.

With his free arm, he gathered my sister against his side, her mascara-streaked face pressing into his shoulder, walking us away towards the car.

After tucking both my sister and I into the car, her sniffling quietly beside me, he climbed into the driver's side with his mouth set in a mulish line.

He pulled away from the school without a second glance, tires crunching over scattered autumn leaves in the parking lot.

I watched the red-brick school shrink in the rear window, its weathered facade growing smaller with each passing second. A cluster of students still hovered by the entrance like vultures, their faces blurring together into a mass of bodies.

I watched through the rearview mirror until the school disappeared behind the tall pines lining the road, their shadows dappling the asphalt with patches of darkness.

In my heart, raw and aching like a fresh wound, I made a promise that burned white-hot as a cattle brand pressed against tender flesh: That I would never again be someone's victim.