My daydream goes careening off the track.
“Earth to Emily,” Dee says, snapping her fingers in my face. She’s standing in front of me, shifting from foot to foot. When I don’t immediately make a move, she kicks my ankle. “Didn’t you hear the bell?” She peers closer. “You haven’t taken something, have you? Because if so, it’s well overdue for another lecture about sharing.”
I snort as I get to my feet, letting her pull me along. “If I were high, do you think I’d look this unhappy?”
“Like I can tell how you’re feeling,” she grumbles good-naturedly. “You’re a bloody sphinx half the time.”
“Well, take a good look. This is my I-wish-I-was-doing-drugs face.”
She laughs, letting go of my hand so I have to walk the rest of the way to class under my own steam. Halfway along the corridor, a girl with a short, dark bob thumps into me, sending my textbooks flying.
The bump is hard enough that I take a second to catch my breath, while she rocks back a step, a smirk of apology on her face.
Except, on second glance, it’s not an apology. She’s just smirking.
I snarl, “You should learn to watch where you’re fucking going.”
“Whatever,” she says with a shrill laugh that has more in common with a recorder being blasted on by a three-year-old than a person. She stoops to collect her strewn belongings. “You should watch whereyou’regoing, slag.”
A snake of doubt squirms in my belly, and I catch it, strangle it, and hang it out to dry in the sun. I step toe to toe with the girl, my eyes glinting, a thrill of excitement taking over from my momentary wobble. “Pick up my books.”
When she nervously glances over my shoulder, I step across to hide whoever she’s looking at from view, dropping my voice lower. “I said, pick up my books.”
She bends, snagging the two that fell and slamming them into my midriff with enough force that I know it’s not accidental.
My fingers itch to smack themselves across that inappropriate grin but physical violence is monitored a hell of a lot more closely than words, despite the latter being capable of doing more damage. “Now, where’s my fucking apology?”
Her eyes cut to the side again, and she nods. “Because it’s my bad you can’t walk in a straight line this early on a Monday morning? Next time you help yourself to whatever your mother’s having, save some for the rest of us, why don’t you?”
The words hit me like a string of little darts, each blow doing more damage. I’m so incredulous I can’t think of a rebuttal. My eyes drift to Dee but she must be as stunned as I am because she’s not moving, not stepping in to help. Just watching with the same bemused expression that I must have.
“And I’m so, so sorry.” She rolls her eyes. Dylan? Devon? What the fuck is her name?
Mud by the end of the day, that’s for sure.
“Please forgive me for not stepping out of the way when you staggered by.”
A passing kid sniggers and Dee puts her foot out, so he trips, the amusement wiped from his face in a second.
The dark-haired girl’s already taken off, moving past me, not even bothering to turn and look back to check where I am or what I might be doing. That part upsets me the worst. Like she doesn’t factor me in as a threat.
The second bell goes, and Dee tugs my arm. “Come on. I’m not getting stuck next to Fabian again. The boy’s never met a stick of deodorant.” She waggles her eyebrows until I give a laugh, then follow her into the block for class.
At the door, I turn to send one last lingering frown at the girl’s back and find her staring at me, eyes like shards of ice, lip curling. She raises the middle finger on her right hand, keeping it there until I face forward.
I’m not the type of girl who gets confronted in corridors. That isn’t me. With a frown, I turn back towards the classroom, trying to ignore the wriggle of unease in my belly.
CHAPTERSEVEN
EM
On Friday, I find a park close to Nate’s house, ready for the party. As I expected, when I turned up at Dee’s house to help her prepare, she took hours in front of the mirror. It’s worth it, her hair looks stunning tonight, the time she spent with the hot oil conditioner paying off now her ginger hair is so silky it looks like molten bronze flowing down her back.
Today started off horribly enough, my locker redecorated with the drawing of a massive pair of tits and a gigantic vagina. Something I don’t want to see in the mirror, let alone gracing the door to my textbooks and other random shit.
The school secretary hadn’t been bothered. She punctuated my verbal report with yawns, and when I left at the end of the day, no one had yet turned up to clean it. My teeth clench as I think back to when… ahem…somebodydefaced Lily’s locker earlier in the term.
There’s a tinge of regret now I know how it feels on the receiving end, but that emotion comes laced with a healthy dose of self-pity. Trent had appointed half the rugby team to clean Lily’s locker before she even arrived at school. Hell would freeze over before he’d do the same for me.
