I’m done playing a secondary role in my own tale.
Done letting the likes of Xander Knight walk all over me.
Done crying in corners like a damn coward.
I push my shoulders back the way Elsa always does and meet his gaze head-on. “There’s room.”
Okay, my voice could’ve been louder, but it’s calm, so there’s that. Baby steps.
“What did you just say?” He narrows one of his eyes as if not believing I spoke.
I don’t talk back to Xander. Ever. I either run away or do as he tells me. I’ve always thought if I did, one day, he’d find it in him to forgive me. One day, he’d recall those times we used to be best friends.
But I’ve been a fool.
Those times only exist for me. He already wiped them clean, so I might as well do the same.
“You heard me.” I motion at the rest of the hall. “There’s room. Use it.”
He chuckles, the sound dry and humourless, and my back stiffens. “Did you just order me, Berly?”
I hate that name. I fucking despise it.
It’s a taunt, and a cruel one at that. The boy who used to call me his Green is long gone. It’s not that I want him to call me that again, he lost the right when he said I disgusted him. He lost the right when he stood by as all the other students bullied me.
He lost the right when he was no longer my number one supporter and turned into my number one tormentor.
Still, I wish he’d just call me by my first name.
I lift a shoulder. “Call it whatever you like.”
I start to move past him, but he stops twirling the ball and thrusts it in front of my face, forcing me to halt. “Not so fast.”
A sigh escapes me even as a tremor shoots down my spine. Being this close to him that I almost smell the mint on his breath and his rich ocean scent rattles me in ways I don’t care to admit.
Or experience.
“What do you want, Xander?”
His brows scrunch and his grip tightens on the ball. “First, lose the attitude. Second, don’t say my fucking name.”
“Then how about you stop getting in my fucking way?” I snap, then bite my lower lip.
Shit.
I just snapped at him. This must be the first time in…well, ever. I don’t remember ever doing it, not even when we were kids. He seems taken aback, too, when his face loses the hard edge for a fraction of a second.
Before he can think about a way to retaliate – and hurt me – I brush past him and stride to class. But I don’t run. No, I keep my steps controlled.
From today onwards, Xander Knight won’t see me run or cry.
This confrontation is only the beginning.
A new battle has started in our war.
And this time, I’ll come out as the winner.
2
Kimberly
I heave my lunch into the toilet, the gurgling sound echoing around me like a fucked up symphony.
Do you know that distorted sound some violins make?
Yeah, me neither. Dad and Mum are into classical music – they met at a concerto. Shocker. I prefer punk and alternative rock. Thank you very much.
Anyway, I fill my mind with my favourite songs instead of the sound of heaving. You never get used to it, not the sticking your finger in your throat part and not the vomiting part; it’s always disgusting. Every time I do this, I feel as if spiders are crawling over my skin with their hairy legs, leaving trails of rubbish in their wake.
Once my stomach makes the hollow sound, announcing there’s nothing left, I step out of the stool. No one is here, as they shouldn’t be.
I only do this right before class, after I make sure everyone is in there. That’s why I sometimes arrive late, then pretend it’s because of a headache.
Being invisible is easy, but being completely non-existent is a bit difficult. If I were a ghost, I wouldn’t have to go through this trouble every day.
You know, the part about making sure no one is inside a public girls’ toilet. If anyone is around, I just vomit in RES’s back garden in the rubbish bin and only return here to brush my teeth.
As soon as I finish washing my mouth, I stare at my reflection in the mirror.
That face is also a nightmare.
In fact, it’s the worst nightmare. Those cheeks that I thought would no longer be shabby, those breasts that appear too small against my blouse. My saggy arms with stretch marks galore. They’re everywhere – stretch marks, I mean – at the underside of my arms, my stomach, and my thighs.
Everywhere.
I hate them and I hate this fucking body. I hate myself in it. I wish there was a way to detonate it from the inside out, aside from vomiting my lunch.
A thought assaults my subconscious.
I want to slam my fist into that mirror, break it into pieces, then take a shard of glass and –
No.
No, no!
I shake my head frantically and slap both my cheeks, resisting the urge to touch my wrist.
For Kir, you’re here for Kir.
My steps are hard and determined as I exit the toilet while closing my bag.
I’m late for my next class. Or more like, I’ll be late in about a minute.
That’s the downside of being in the girls’ room after everyone’s settled in.
I’m running down the hall when an arm wraps around my shoulder. For a second, I freeze, thinking Xander has returned for revenge.
He’s been ignoring me since the morning, but I know more than anyone that if Xander Knight ignores you, it’s a disaster disguised as a blessing.
I release a breath when I inhale and realise it’s not him. He doesn’t smell this strong or feel this hard – not that I know how he feels.
And yes, I know how Xander smells. It’s only because of my ability to connect to my surroundings, remember?
“You’re also late, Kimmy?”
I smile up at Ronan, my first real smile since the one I gave Kir this morning.
Ronan Astor, also one of the horsemen and possibly the closest person I have to an ally in this school – aside from Elsa.
He has boyish charm, his brown hair is slightly curly, and his deep, rich brown eyes hint at a playboy in the making. Scratch that, he’s already a playboy. Oh, and he happens to be a true aristocrat. His proud nose is clear proof of that.
I don’t think he notices it, but his nose screams nobility from a continent away.
“Speak for yourself.” I poke his side. “You didn’t come in the morning.”
“I had…an important meeting.”
“You mean, you slept in because of yesterday’s party?”
“Hey! Parties are important meetings, Kimmy. I’m going to teach you that…amongst other things.” He grins. “Wait and see.”
“No, thanks.”
“Yes, and don’t thank me yet.” He waggles his brows. “I have payment suggestions for later.”
“Why do I feel like I won’t like it?”
“Believe me, you will.” He tucks me closer to his side as we walk to class.
None of the students dares to say anything to me in front of Ronan. He might not be as brooding as Aiden and Cole or a damn popularity freak like Xander, but Ronan also has his throne in RES.
His crown is just a bit more approachable, touchable even.