His text brings the mood down a bit, but as I approach the looming, bricked building, heart-racing anxiety replaces every other emotion.
“Holy shit,” I mumble beneath my breath. The dark gray gable roof points high into the sky, seemingly endless, as are the freshly groomed lawns that expand forever.
The student parking lot is three times as big as my previous school, with just as many students loitering around.
Their judgmental eyes follow my car around the lot, all of them watching me as I pull into an open spot. From my tinted windows, I notice their glares glued to my face while they whisper about the new girl. I never envied the kids who transferred to my school, knowing exactly what was being said about them when people thought they weren’t listening.
Who’s that?
Where did she come from?
Bet I can hit that.
Think she’ll suck my dick?
She’ll be on her knees before the week is over.
Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
That’s just the guys. The girls are so much worse, especially when they see attention has been stolen from them.
Look at her. She looks like such a bitch.
Eww, did she bother to look in the mirror this morning?
She’s probably a slut.
She better not come near my man. I'll fuck her up.
Yadda yadda yadda.
They’re not all bitchy, but for some reason, bitchiness is easier to find.
I feel a weight on my shoulders once I shut the car off. The sound of their chatter drifts into the safe space of my vehicle. It all sounds like muffled nonsense, but I know the minute I step out, the whispers will become clear.
Blowing out a breath, I chant, “It’s just school. They’re just people. Who gives a fuck what they have to say?” Over and over, until the weight fizzles from my frame. My confidence once again ignites, the flames of my self-assurance moving me forward. I walk out with my head held high, and my best smile slapped across my caramel-nude lips.
The sudden silence doesn’t affect me, and neither does the sneering scowls of the girls I pass by. Their boyfriends watch me with stupid grins, and yes, it’s shitty and not very sweet, but I eat them up, dazzling them with my bright eyes and bouncing walk. This might not be the best way to start off, but if I control the boys, I control the girls.
It’s a game for dominance, and I’ll always win.
Scarlett Dane
CHAPTER II
Click.
Click.
Click.
My heels tap on the linoleum floor as I saunter over to the attendance office. I fight the instinctive motion to twist my head to the side and glare at the girls who openly speak shit about me.
If they want something to talk about, then maybe I should give them what they crave.
No. No, Scarlett!
Be cool. Be sweet.
