Chapter 3

At lunchtime, Giselle tugged me toward the cafeteria. St. Yohan's cafeteria looked more like a five-star buffet. There were rows of gleaming counters, every kind of dish imaginable. I froze in place, overwhelmed.

"100 dollars for a steak?" I blurted, staring at the menu. "Are they trying to rob us?"

Giselle giggled. "Melanie, that's just the base price. The school covers most of it. We only pay 20 dollars." She flashed two meal cards. "Lunch is on me today."

We had just sat down with our trays when George and his gang surrounded us.

"Oh, look, the country bumpkin's trying steak for the first time," the blond kid named Mitchell sneered. "Try not to choke on it."

"Watch your mouth, Mitchell!" Giselle shot to her feet.

George laid a hand on her shoulder. "Giselle, why are you taking her side? We grew up together."

"She's my sister!" Giselle snapped, shaking him off. "Closer to me than you, my so-called brother."

George's face darkened. He "accidentally" tipped over the bowl in front of me. Scalding broth spilled across my uniform.

"Oops, sorry," he said innocently. "My hand slipped."

I jumped up, chest burning from the heat. Before I could react, Giselle had already stripped off her jacket and thrown it around me. "Melanie, wear mine. The nurse's office has spare uniforms. I'll come with you."

She grabbed my hand, glaring daggers at George as we hurried out. "Pathetic!"

On the way to the nurse's office, Giselle muttered, "Melanie, just ignore them. George has always been like this. He has to be the best at everything. He can't stand losing."

I looked at her stubborn, slightly annoyed profile, and warmth spread through me. "Thanks, Giselle."

She blinked, then smiled sweetly. "We're sisters, aren't we?"

When we returned to class, I spotted a cup of milkshake and a note on my desk: [Burn ointment's in your drawer. From Nathan.]

I glanced at Nathan's desk. He was buried in his book, like nothing happened.

The last period was gym class. Girls were running the mile, boys the two-mile. I had just finished my run when I noticed Giselle sitting alone on the bleachers, looking downcast.

"What's up?" I asked as I walked over.

"Nothing... I'm just a little tired," she said with a forced smile.

I followed her gaze. A group of girls nearby were laughing, but every so often, they glanced over with mocking smirks.

"Are they shutting you out?" I asked directly.

Giselle lowered her head. "It's because of you. George said anyone who dares to be friends with you is picking a fight with him."

My fists clenched. So that was his game. He was too scared to face me, so he targeted her instead.

"Come on," I said, grabbing Giselle's hand.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"To have a little chat with your so-called friends," I said.

I marched up to the group, and their laughter died instantly.

"So you're giving Giselle the cold shoulder just because she hangs out with me?" I asked flatly.

The ringleader, Serena Chase, if I remembered right, rolled her eyes. "Why do you care? We just think hanging out with a country bumpkin is embarrassing."

"Oh, really?" I smirked. "Any of you even know how Giselle did on last week's math quiz?"

Serena froze. "Uh... what did she get?"

"Got an A. One of the top scores in the class." I glanced at Giselle. "Am I right?"

Giselle nodded shyly. "Melanie got the highest score in class... an A-plus."

"And the rest of you?" I glanced around the group. "Somewhere in the C range? D's maybe? Oh, Serena, wasn't yours practically failing? Like, bottom of the class?"

Serena went beet red. "How the heck did you know that?"

"Ms. Lewis posted the grades outside her office. Anyone could see." I shrugged. "So, who's the real loser here?"

The girls exchanged glances, suddenly not looking so tough anymore.

"And another thing," I added. "Giselle's representing our school in the city-wide piano competition next month. Did you even know that?"

Giselle's eyes widened. "Melanie, how did you..."

"Mom told me," I said, giving her shoulder a pat. "She said you've won tons of awards since you were little."

The girls looked stunned. One with short hair asked softly, "Giselle... are you really attending the competition?"

Giselle nodded. "Yeah... Melanie said she'd practice with me."

"Could we... come watch you practice after school?" the short-haired girl asked.

Giselle's face lit up. "Of course!"

Seeing their attitude change, I let out a quiet sigh of relief. Guess they weren't actually trying to shut Giselle out; they were just following George's lead.

On the way back to the classroom, Giselle clung to my arm. "Melanie, thank you."

"What for?" I asked.

"For helping me get my friends back," she said, her voice trembling. "George always said piano was a waste of time, and he never let me get close to anyone."

My chest tightened. "He was controlling your friendships?"

Giselle nodded. "He said it was for my own good."

A chill ran through me. George's grip on her was far more twisted than simple brotherly protectiveness.

After school, Nathan, who rarely ever spoke first, suddenly muttered, "Watch out for George."

I raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"He got humiliated in the cafeteria. He won't let that slide," Nathan said quietly while packing his bag. "He's got pull in Class B, and..."

"And what?" I pressed.

Nathan hesitated. "He's got connections off campus."

Before I could ask more, George's voice boomed from the doorway. "Giselle, time to go home!"

Giselle gave me a reluctant wave and trailed after George. I noticed his grip on her wrist was so tight that it made her wince.

"See you tomorrow," Nathan said, and then left too.

As I walked back to the Larson residence alone, my thoughts raced. I'd scored a few small wins today, but George's revenge was only beginning. His obsession with controlling Giselle was downright chilling.

As I turned the corner, my instinct told me someone was tailing me. I glanced back. A few guys in different school uniforms ducked into an alley.

My heart thudded as I quickened my pace.

Guess Nathan's warning wasn't just for show.