"Well, what the hell did I do to deserve the death glares they're shooting at me? I've been here for all of three and a half damn minutes!" I huff. I never huff. I never care enough to huff.
This place is already doing weird things to me.
"You, my dear New Girl, committed the cardinal sin," she sing-songs quietly. With that, she mimes zipping her lips and leaves me staring at her, my lips pressed together in frustration. Before I can demand she explain her cryptic bullshit comment, the bell rings, and we get up and roll out of the classroom in the wave of students. "Stella, I have to run to the drama room for two minutes. We both have the next period free, so go and grab a spot outside in the courtyard. I'll come find you as soon as I'm done." She steers me in the direction of the doors leading outside and waves as she strides off down the hall.
Heading outside into the warm September air, I find an empty bench under a sprawling oak. Pulling my phone and earbuds out of my bag, I sit back and indulge in some people watching with Maynard James Keenan's voice singing to me about tiny monsters. Sadly, not two minutes of peace go by before I spot three angry, haughty girls marching toward me. At least as much as anybody can march in three-inch heels, anyway.
Since I can be what you might call a contrary sort of person if you’re polite, or a shit-disturber if you’re not, I decide to leave my earbuds in and simply cock my head to the side, watching them with a calculated expression of vague disinterest as they approach me. The leader of this little posse, the one Sunday called Hali earlier, plants her hands on her hips and stares me down. Resigning myself to having this conversation, I sigh and pull my earbuds out of my ears.
"Can I help you?" I ask dryly without standing.
"Don't you get snotty with me, you trashy bitch," she hisses back at me. "Who do you think you are? There are rules here, and low-class sluts like you follow them, or else."
Snotty? Me?
Momentarily taken aback by her hostility, it takes me a few beats to register the rest of her words. Trashy bitch, I can handle. Low-class, well, she's not entirely wrong. But slut?
Nuh-uh. No way, no day.
I stand, pulling myself up to my full five feet and eight inches, and get nose-to-nose with Fascist Barbie.
"Look, princess, I'm sitting over here, minding my own business. What the fuck have I done to offend your delicate sensibilities? Nothing. You don't fucking know me. So. You. Don't. Get. To. Call. Me. A. Slut." I fire each staccato word at her. Though I’m genuinely bewildered by this girl’s unmistakable hatred toward me, I am also seriously pissed off by her shitty attitude. "Back the fuck up, Barbie, and leave me alone. Shoo." Flicking my fingers at her dismissively, I stand my ground, waiting for her and her minions to leave. To my surprise, she leans in even closer, her cloyingly sweet perfume wrapping around me like a candy-scented lasso.
"That's not how it works here. You don't get to just show up out of the blue and jump the line." She peers spitefully down her clearly after-market nose at me. "There are rules, and just because you're a Bradleigh, don't think they don't apply to you.”
Because I’m a Bradleigh? What the shit does that mean?
"You know," I tell her, "shrieking like a toddler having a tantrum is super unbecoming. Is this a rich girl thing? Do you need a time-out?" Her jaw muscles bulge right along with her eyes, and her hands ball into fists at her sides. "Seriously, if I had even a remote understanding of what the fuck you are freaking out about, I might be more concerned." I lean back slightly and give her a thoughtful once over. "Wait, no, that's a lie." I shrug. "There is no situation in which I would give a rat's ass about anything you have to say."
With that, I turn and grab my bag from the bench behind me and attempt to shove by her. Once again, I underestimate the size of her ego, and her pampered hand clamps onto my wrist, grinding the bones together painfully and stopping me short.
Damn! The girl has one hell of a grip.
I’m seconds away from breaking every one of her fingers digging into my arm, starting with the one flashing the huge emerald and rose gold ring when Sunday's voice cuts through the thunderclouds of anger and pain gathering in my brain.
"Oh, Hali, you silly girl," she clucks her tongue in mocking reproach as she sashays toward us. "You should know better than to grab people who could snap you like a toothpick.” She smiles innocently. “Be a good girl and let go of Stella before she punches you in the face. I'm sure your daddy doesn't want to pay for another new nose." Sunday's soft drawl sounds somewhere between lazy and bored, but the fierce glint in her hazel eyes and the set of her jaw tells me she's anything but.
Wrenching out of Hali’s grasp, I spin to face her full-on. Clear-headed enough to realize a physical altercation on my first day would probably be a bad idea, I decide to settle for a simple verbal evisceration. I open my mouth, but before a word comes out, her attention focuses on something behind me. Her previously pinched expression instantly morphs into a soft, doe-eyed mask. From my experience, there’s only one thing that can make a person go from zero to Stepford that fast.
Gross. Fucking predictable females giving the rest of us a bad name.
Recognizing that anything I say to the basic bitch now will fall on deaf ears, I grit my teeth and start to walk away. Sunday isn’t going to let this go that easily though and rolls her eyes in disgust at the blatant display of desperate adoration, unable to resist a parting shot.
"Jeez, have some self-respect, Hali. Drool, much?" She sneers loudly with disdain. "You might as well get down on your knees and open your mouth right here. Maybe you'll get lucky, and Poe will finally drop his pants for you."
I don’t know if the group of guys I notice lounging near the doors to the school heard her, but Hali sure did. Her lips stay frozen in their pretty smile, but the rage flaring in her baby blues promises this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.
Sunday and I share most of the same classes, but the last one of the day is mine alone.
“No triple threat here, missy. I sound like a basset hound being sawed in two when I sing, and I trip over my two left feet on the daily. But, boy, can I act.” She sticks her head inside the music room and waggles her fingers in greeting at the teacher, grinning at his slightly nervous expression when he sees her. “He actually thanked me when I chose drama for last period this year instead of music.” Blowing me an air kiss as she turns down the hall, I shake my head and laugh.
Mr. Shartun, the balding, bearded music teacher, might be my favorite so far, based solely on his sheer excitement for the subject he teaches. When I walk into his nearly empty classroom, he starts talking to me right away. He quickly explains the class is small to begin with, and a number of his students are off using the time to audition for the annual senior gala.
Honestly, after the appearance of my airport stranger on stage in The Aud this morning, and the scene with Hali the Hellion in the courtyard, the lack of bodies present right now is more than welcome.
When the final bell thankfully signals the end of the school day, I heave a sigh of relief, happy to make my way back to my locker where I spot Sunday waiting for me.
“Girl, you survived your first day!” She giggles and gives me a one-armed side squish, then turns and starts walking backward down the hall toward the main doors. “Do you need a ride home?”