The students around us part, making way for her to saunter over to us, her signature smugness plastered on her face. She tilts her head as her smile widens. “I actually hope you show up. I’m dying to see what kind of clown show you’d put on this time.”
Chuckling sounds in the hallway, but I stand tall. My heartbeat quickens, but not with the usual panic that used to flood my system whenever Paige appeared. “Were you the one who put my name on the list?” I ask, my eyes narrowing.
The whites of her eyes show as she rolls them. “Oh, please, like I’d waste my time on someone like you.” Her tone is thick with fake innocence, but I know better. Ever since Theo let it slip that we live under the same roof, Paige has had it in for me, waiting for her next opportunity to put me down. This is no doubt retaliation for the tickets I received.
“Wow, must be exhausting being this petty all day long,” I say, crossing my arms. Three months ago, I would’ve crumbled under her verbal abuse. Now, her words have no effect. Well, maybe not entirely, but the sting has dulled to a minor irritation.
Paige steps closer, the scent of her expensive perfume strong in my nose. “What did you just say to me?”
“You heard me.”
We have an audience around us, watching the showdown with eager eyes. I swallow hard, and my muscles lock with anxiety—I don’t do well under the scrutinous gaze of onlookers.
“Listen, charity case,” Paige hisses, lips barely moving. “Just because Theo feels sorry for you doesn’t mean you suddenly matter in this school.”
Stephanie steps forward. “So why do you care if Chrissy competes or not?” Her voice carries across the hallway, drawing even more spectators. “Seems like you’re pretty obsessed with someone who doesn’t matter.”
Paige’s cheeks flush a dark shade pink. “I’m not obsessed—I’m entertained. There’s a difference.”
“Only you could confuse bullying with entertainment,” Ian mutters, just loud enough for those closest to hear. A few students snicker.
Then he tugs at my sleeve as Paige shoots him a glare. “Come on,” he says, “it’s not worth it.”
“You stay out of this, loser.”
But Ian doesn’t flinch. Instead, he shakes his head, his voice calm. “I should thank you.”
Paige’s brow furrows. “What?”
“For showing me how wrong I was about you.”
The look on her face as a comeback eludes her—priceless. Nice going, Ian! All she does is huff and scoff then turn away, murmuring a dismissive, “Whatever.”
Before rounding the corner, however, she looks over her shoulder straight at me, eyes glinting with something sinister. “See you around.” Then she disappears, and I shudder.
The threat lingers in the air, but somehow it doesn’t crawl under my skin like it would have had months ago. I straighten my shoulders.
“That was—“ Stephanie begins.
“Intense,” I finish for her. “But nothing we couldn’t handle.”
The warning bell rings, scattering students like startled birds.
From the thinning crowd, Theo emerges and comes up to us. “What did I miss?”
“Someone put my name on the talent show roster,” I say, pointing to the announcement board.
His expression shifts, and instead of alarm, there’s a spark of something that looks like . . . excitement? “I think you should do it,” he says.
“Never in a million years. I’ve experienced enough humiliation lately to last a lifetime.”
Theo doesn’t push it, but I can tell he’s disappointed. Ever since he caught me dancing in my room, he has tried to convince me, on more than one occasion, to take the stage this year.
No, thank you.
As he walks us to History, I steer the conversation into safer territory. “So, the BTS concert. I didn’t peg you as a fan.”
“It’s not the band I’m a fan of.”
