“Really? how did you work that one out Sherlock Holmes?” I spit out sarcastically, throwing away the tissue in the bin.
“Who did this to you?” she grits the words out, her hand reaching out to my shoulder and turning me toward her.
Her touch isn't brash like usual, in fact, she's being incredibly gentle. It's baffling me, why is she acting like this when she probably orchestrated the whole thing?
I yank my arm out of her grasp. “Fuck off.”
I try to walk away, but she steps in front of me and doesn't let me out of her reach, not for one second at all.
“Whofucking did this to you, Adaline?” she repeats again, her tone even lower this time.
Her eyes have darkened, her frown deepening. I've never seen her look so full of rage before and it's honestly scaring me a little. Her blue eyes are undeniably furious. I can feel the anger radiating off her, but I don't let it get to me.
“Don't act like you didn't send Stacey to fuck with me like this,” I retort in an annoyed tone.
“Stacey? What?” she asks, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. “Why would I ever send someone to do this to you?”
She looks offended. Actually, she looks irrevocably appalled that I even suggested such a thing, like it's so unbelievably insane for her to send someone to physically hurt me.
Even though we literally fought a few days ago, the sheer seriousness on her face is baffling me and I don't like it at all, not one bit.
“Whatever.” I dismiss her words. “Tell your little minion to stay away from me or you'll be down one cheerleader for your tournament.”
“Adaline—”
I ignore her and push past her, barrelling my way out of the toilets and getting the hell away from her. Did she really not send Stacey? I mean, this is the first time one of her minions has hit me and it doesn't really make sense for her to order that now.
I shake my head and ignore any thoughts about Juliette. This isn't about her, this is about my throbbing lip.
Adam is absolutely going to go berserk. I’m gonna have to hide this.
***
One paracetamol and twenty minutes later, I'm standing by my locker, my head leaning against it.
I went to the nurse's office and got an ice pack for the swelling, but it's proven to be useless. Not to mention now I have a splitting headache, which only gets worse when I hear the bell ring and students come sprinting out of their classrooms. I close my eyes in response, trying my best to drown out the noise.
“What the fuck happened to you?” My eyes snap open when I hear Victoria's voice.
Oh, no. Her and Aryan are standing in front of me, looking like a pair of concerned parents. Their gazes zeroed in on my bruised lip and the ice pack. How am I going to successfully downplay this?
“It was nothing. I just had a little fight with Stacey in the locker room—”
“That fucking bitch!” Aryan bellows, interrupting me angrily.
He rarely swears, especially toward women, so I know he's very angry right now.
“I'm going to kill her!” Victoria screeches, her nostrils flaring. Her and Aryan exchange a look and I know they're about to tear her apart.
“No, wait—”
They ignore my words and begin stomping down the hallway, barging through the sea of students. Victoria even knocks someone down to the floor with her speed.
“For fuck's sake,” I whisper to myself watching them sprint toward the locker rooms, I drop the ice pack and rapidly follow them, before they get some sort of murder charge.
When we reach the locker rooms, before they barge in, we hear shouting, which halts their steps and mine. The door is already ajar, so out of pure curiosity, I signal them to crouch down so we can spy on whatever is going on.
We're really nosy like that.
