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"Explain."
I don't know how I ended up here, but right now I have TJ cornered into a wall, facing me with such a boastful posture that he clearly isn't smart enough to avoid. Because I'm going to ruin him.
And all he's doing is grinning at me.
"What do you want me to say?" he casually says. "You wanted intel on Reynolds, and that's what I gave you."
"You didn't say it was common knowledge!" I demand. "What the hell?"
"I did tell you that you weren't the first person to come up to me about her," he yawns, and I'm forcefully hit with the realisation that he's right. "I just gave you the same info as I did with the other losers who think they have a chance with Justine. Not my fault she already knew the game."
I internally groan. How could I be so stupid?
But TJ couldn'thave not known about that. He would try to get his hands dirty on anything worth whispering about. Missing that tiny detail is just too sloppy for him.
"You knew, didn't you?" I squint at him. "That Justine would see through it all."
"It was a guess. Or a hopeful wish." I resist the urge to smack him. "Jesus, Hale. Was it really that bad?"
"You made him look like — " I stop, realising my mistake.
"Ah." He leans forward now, intrigue in his eyes. "So you are just a spokesperson for someone else. Playing their strings."
I roll my eyes, but I'm secretly a bit worried. God knows what TJ would do if he found out that Dalton High's certified heartbreaker was trying to win Justine Reynolds' pants — I mean, heart. "It's none of your business."
"Whoever he is, he won't make it," he calls after me, as I walk away. "None of them ever do!"
***
"So? How'd it go?" Trey asks persistently. "Did you punch him in the face?"
