He studies my face for several beats, obviously trying to understand where all of this is coming from and failing. “You’re . . . you’re beautiful,” he starts. When he sees my annoyed expression, he continues. “I wasn’t finished. You’re funny and you’re smart and you’re self-assured. You know how to get what you want.”

The last part reminds me of the way Zoe described us—the top of the food chain, the ones who worked hard to get where we are. Apparently, making it to the top means devouring everyone beneath us.

“I think I’ve done a lot of bad things,” I whisper.

Damien reaches out and tucks my hair behind my ear, and the genuine look on his face only makes me feel worse. “That doesn’t matter to me,” he says. He places his hands on either side of my face, and my body goes rigid beneath his touch. “If I believed all that stuff mattered, I would hate myself too. We all do bad things.”

“But—”

“You’re not the bad things you’ve done. You’re mine. And I love you just the way you are.”

When he leans in to kiss me, I turn, pulling away. The moment hangs in the air, suspended, and my breath catches when I realize what I’ve done.

“Damien,” I start.

He looks flustered, cheeks burning brightly. The car feels like it shrunk in size.

“It’s fine.” His voice is low, wounded.

Without another word, he pulls back onto the street, and my knee bounces anxiously. I should’ve called Sofia instead. The ride from the school to Seymour Avenue feels as though it lasts for an eternity, and I take great interest in the world outside my window. Finally, we slide into the driveway, slowing to a stop.

I place my hand on the door handle, looking at him for the first time. “Thanks for the ride.”

Damien doesn’t respond.

Feeling incredibly uncomfortable, I slip out of the car and into the rain. The second the door slams shut behind me, he reverses out of the driveway without looking back. Tension weighs heavily on my shoulders, and it’s starting to feel like being both tired and on edge is my default lately.

I don’t want to be his; I want to be mine. But the Allie that he thinks I am does belong to him. She belongs to Damien and Zoe and everyone else at school.

And as long as I look like her, I’ll always belong to them too.

10 | Betray

The following Friday, I skip out on my morning classes to go see Dr. Meyer.