“I can’t wait for Morrison to get back. I need a sane ally in this place,” Avery moans, and Ash scoffs at her, stepping around the table to sling an arm over her shoulders.
“If you think he’s sane, then you’re not as smart as you think you are, Floss.”
They walk out together. He doesn’t even bother to thank me for helping him.
Fucking rich dicks.
* * *
My first clue that something isn’t right is the hush that falls all around me as I walk to my room.
I’ve just finished up with Ash in the library, and I need to change before dinner. The hallway that leads to my room is so quiet I can hear my stomach rumble. I try to ignore it, to walk in carefully measured steps like none of this is bothering me, but I just want to snarl something snarky at the lot of them.
I make it to my door and find Avery standing in her doorway, smirking over at me, her entire body screaming with smugness.
The second I crack the door open, I can smell it. The eye-watering stench of piss.
There is urine on everything in my room.
Every. Single. Thing.
I gag as the door swings fully open, and that's when I hear the laughter start. It isn't just Avery. All of the girls on our floor are laughing. They have all been in on this disgusting prank. I take a deep breath, through my mouth so I don't pass out from the stink, and then close myself inside my room.
I find gloves stashed in my first-aid kit and then I get to work stripping my bedding off and piling all the clothing I can salvage. My sneakers can be saved, but the three books I brought with me are ruined. Luckily I had taken all of my textbooks with me to my tutoring, just in case I needed them, because they were easily more expensive than everything else in the room combined.
I drag all of the piss-soaked linens to the small laundry room and completely ignore the gaping looks from the girls.
It's clear they thought this would rattle me, maybe even break me. No chance of that.
After all five washing machines are running, I sit on the floor in the laundry room to start on my own homework. There's no way I'm going to leave my things out in the open, and now I need to invest in some serious hardware for my door.
Fuck these little rich kids, throwing tantrums and acting like animals. Never in all my time in foster care did anyone play with their own piss. I try hard not to think about which diseases are transmitted through urine, and try to remember these kids have access to care, so they should be clean.
Should be.
I've finished two classes’ worth of homework when Avery walks in, carrying a single sheet of paper. She stands over me with contempt in her eyes and a sneer on her painted lips.
“Finished yet?”
I know she's not talking about my sheets swirling in the washing machine. I turn back to my homework.
“Nope.” I pop the ‘p’ obnoxiously and don't even look at her. She drops the paper, and it lands at my feet. I read the title and scoff at her.
“I'm not leaving. You think your little prank can run me out of here? All it shows is that you're disgusting and desperate.”
She laughs like tinkling bells, but all I hear are the shards of glass she’ll wield to stab me with.
“I've never been desperate in my life, Mounty. I don't have to be. You are, though. And if you don't leave, I'll see just how desperate I can make you.”
What the hell was this girl’s problem? What had I done to her that would make her act like this? Did rich people really hate the poor that much?
I pick up the paper, and then I maintain icy eye contact with her as I tear it in half.
“Feel free to fuck off, Beaumont.”
The smirk doesn't leave her face as she prances out of the room, her kitten heels clicking on the hardwood floors. I can feel the creeping fingers of a migraine at the corners of my brain. How was it that I made it through a drug addict mom, absent dad, foster care, public school in a bad district, and now I'm rewarded for my efforts with Avery Beaumont?
A deep, dark voice whispers to me:it's punishment for the Wolf. I give myself a little shake and get back to work.
