“He can’t turn the whole school against me.” But even as I said that, panic clenched like a tight fist around my chest.
Loni had simply pressed her fingertips against her shut eyes. “Oh, you sweet summer child. He already has.”
She’d been right. So, so fucking right. I walked into my first class and felt as though I were facing down a firing squad. Everyone glared at me, and to my horror, I found Liam Halloway sitting near the back of the classroom, his expression dark and foreboding. I’d slunk to an empty seat in the back row, careful to avoid his murderous gaze.
Someone coughed into their hand. “Bitch.”
“Fucking trash,” someone else spat, not even trying to cover it up.
My blood began to boil with hot anger. Just before the bell rang, the pale, frizzy-haired girl I’d saved from Saint walked into the room and I felt a small wave of relief wash over me. Surely, she’d be a friendly face?
We met eyes, and to my shock and disgust, she turned her nose up and away from me. Making a point of ignoring me, she strutted to the other side of the room.
A piece of wadded-up notebook paper hit the side of my head. I turned in Liam’s direction to find a girl with red hair flipping me off. Sighing, I picked up the paper and smoothed it out.
In big, bold letters, the note read:
DEAD BITCH WALKING.
I crumpled it back up and flung it away.
The rest of my morning only gets worse from there. Second period I get a modicum of relief as none of the gods are in that class with me, but it’s clear that everyone else would rather I drop dead right then and there than keep on going about my day. Third period brings a fresh wave of grief as I stumble into my government class to find Gabe sneering at me, as though he knew I’d be there. Like Liam, he doesn’t say anything to me, but he doesn’t have to. His rabid fangirls and boys are verbal enough in their taunts and abuse.
By fourth period PE, I’m exhausted and furious and one sarcastic word away from flipping shit on someone, anyone. I’m dreading this class more than the others, though, because my physical safety will be at risk. It sucks because I usually enjoy PE, but I’m going to have to keep my guard up the entire time, or risk being clobbered with whatever sporting equipment my jerk classmates can get their hands on.
Thankfully, it’s also my last class of the day. My afternoon will be spent in self-study electives the guidance counselor arranged for me, so I won’t have to deal with anyone else until dinner. I step into the locker room to change, intent to just get out there and get the period over with, when a familiar, vicious voice freezes me.
“Well, well, look who it is. Angelview’s newest leper.”
This asshole again?
I take a deep breath before turning to face Laurel. She’s standing at the end of the row of green lockers with arms crossed and her hip cocked, surrounded by a group of girls who are clearly trying to look just like her. It’s such a cliché mean girl scene that I almost laugh out loud.
“What do you want, Laurel?” I ask, exasperated, and she does her best Regina George impersonation, hair flip included.
“Well, I’d say I wanted to warn you to watch your back, but I think it’s too late for that. You’ve got a target on your flat chest that’s so big, the International Space Station can probably see it.” She emphasizes this by spreading her hands wide in front of her, earning snorts of laughter from her lemmings.
I count to ten in my head to keep my temper from exploding. It won’t help my reputation if I beat the living shit out of this queen-bee-wannabe on the first day of class.
“Don’t you people have anything better to do than bother me? Kill some dalmatians? Suck the life out of children? Get landed on by a house?”
She slants her head until the blunt ends of her blond bob brush her bare shoulder. “Little else that’s quite so much fun as ruining a trashy little poser.”
I drop my backpack on the bench between the lockers and face her with clenched teeth. “What do you want from me? Hmm? Wanna try and kick my ass? Hurt my feelings? Sorry to disappoint you, Laurel, but I’ve dealt with nasty bitches like you my whole life. It’s gonna take a lot more than some half-baked insults to fuck me up, got it?”
To my annoyance, a chuckle passes through her pursed lips. “Oh, sweetie, you misunderstood. I’m not the one who’s going to break you.”
I cock my head. “What the hell does that mean?”
She grins, and it’s pearly white and evil. “You’ll see.”
Without another word, she and her posse make their way out of the locker room, leaving me alone and more confused than ever.
It’s not until I emerge from the locker room that I understand what Laurel meant. As soon as I step into the gym, I understand who it was she was talking about when she said she wouldn’t be the one who would break me.
Saint Angelle.
In my fucking gym class.
“I’m being punished,” I murmur under my breath, tucking a strand of hair back into my slowly unraveling braid. “God is punishing me.”
Gabe is with him, but I’m not as concerned about Archie Andrews’ muscle-bound twin at present. Saint’s eyes find me immediately, and he stares at me with glacial coldness. I keep my expression neutral, trying hard to hide the fact that I’m shivering with dread.
What fresh hell does he have in store for me?
Laurel and her friends are gathered near Saint and Gabe, though the boys don’t pay them much attention. They don’t seem to mind though, as they fire me looks of sadistic delight and giggle behind their hands to each other. When the gym teacher appears and whistles for us to begin running laps, I huff out a breath of relief. They wouldn’t try something in front of an adult.
Even they couldn’t be that arrogant.
Once we finish our laps, Mr. Norris splits us into teams and tells us we’re playing basketball today. The boys will be on one half of the court, and the girls on the other half. Despite my height, I’m a fan of the sport, so I try to have some fun with it, telling myself over and over again that I’m safe until the bell. Nothing can happen to me, especially with Saint and Gabe securely on the opposite end of the gym.
I end up guarding one of Laurel’s friends—a tall brunette named Nadia who’s rolled up her gym shorts until her ass cheeks hang out—as the game begins. She’s being overly aggressive right away, and my hope that I’ll get out of this class unscathed quickly diminishes. This bitch is out for blood, and when I step in her way to block her from driving the ball to the hoop, she lowers her shoulder and knocks me over. My elbow slams into the floor as I fall.
Mr. Norris blows his whistle and shouts at her to ease up, and Nadia bats her eyelashes and sneers an apology down at me. Pain radiates up my arm from my elbow, but I bite my lip and push to my feet. When the teacher asks if I’m all right, I shake his concern away and reposition myself to start playing again.
I don’t see the ball coming, but I suppose that’s the point.
It slams into my face, knocking me back to the ground with a painful thud.
I hear Laurel’s distinct cackle as stars burst into my vision. Mr. Norris blows his whistle again, it’s shrill sound pinging around in my skull.