"M-maybe. B-but she w-was so cruel."
Cam pulls me into a hug. "I'll make sure she stays away."
I lean into him. He might think he can influence her, but I know better. If Alison wants to bully or hurt me, nothing and no one will stand in her way—not even the starting running back for Prospect University.
one
I'm walking back to the dorm after class when someone bumps into me—hard. I look over, biting back a curse, and when I see it's Alison, I wish I'd let it out.
"What's your problem?" I bark.
"You. You're my problem," she sneers.
I roll my eyes. "Why is that? Because you want to screw Cam but he's with me? Because Cam mademehis girlfriend when all you were to him was a piece of ass? Both of you," I correct when I see Brittany standing beside her.
"You little bitch. I'm going to ruin you," Brittany shouts.
I'm so afraid right now. I know what Alison is capable of—but with Brittany by her side? I can't even imagine. I swallow that fear and pretend. I'm good at that—pretending I'm okay.
"Could you be any more dramatic?"
Alison steps closer. "Watch yourself, Muppet. You're overstepping."
"No. I'm not. I'm minding my own business, living my life, and you nut jobs start with your threatening and bullying. What are you—twelve?" I mock.
Alison's nostrils flare. It reminds me of a bull in a Bugs Bunny cartoon. You know the one? Where the steam comes out of the bull's nostrils because Bugs keeps taunting it? That's the one. I smirk at the thought and Alison's hand comes flying at my face before I can even think.
She slaps me and she slaps me hard—not just once, but twice. The burn, the sting of the slaps hurts like a mofo. I won't cry, but I can't stop the tears that fill my eyes. Damn it. I hate showing her any signs of weakness.
"Feel better now?" I ask, lifting my chin.
She hides the shock well, but I still get a glimpse. I amnotthe same girl I once was. I'm not sure who I am, exactly, but I'm no longer weak.
She cocks out a hip. "A little. But Muppet? There's a lot worse coming."
She walks away in her tight skirt and high-heeled boots, Brittany following behind with a grin telling me she thinks they won that round.
Sorry girls. Not this round.
"You're going to need ice," Sebastian says as he walks up beside me, touching my face but not my cheek directly, taking in the wound. "Motherfucker. It's already bruising."
"Lovely."
"Let me guess—Alison?" he asks.
I nod. "Yup. But I gave as good as I got." I tell him what happened and he smiles.
"Atta girl. Don't put up with their bullshit and next time, hit back—but use your fist," he instructs as we head to the elevator. When I just look at him, he continues. "She won't be expecting it."
I lift my brows. "That's true."
"Of course it is," he replies. "Where's your boyfriend? Doesn't he usually walk you home?"
"They've started practice so he's not around," I tell him.
"Ah, yeah. That's right. Therealpractices since the season has officially begun."
"Yeah," I say with a sigh. "How much do you think this is going to cut into our time?"
