Her attitude makes me question if she’s related to Sam. They have the same bottom-of-the-barrel nose stuck in the air vibe. Biting the inside of my cheek, I hold my tongue, I want to get this situation handled and get to class. I try the reserved approach.
“Ma’am, I’m sure under normal circumstances the lockers here are secure, but the fact that at least one hundred condoms just fell out of my locker proves that, in this instance, more than the principal or I had access to my locker.”
Shay gives me a look that says my attempt to be polite didn’t truly land its mark. I tried, that has to count for something.
“Well, Miss Bishop. I assure you there’s no one to blame for someone gaining access to your locker but yourself. I’ll reset your locker, but outside of that there is nothing I can do for you. Might I suggest you be careful to whom you give access to your locker or not seek attention by placing condoms in your locker.”
Oh this bitch. Seeking attention?Who the hell seeks attention by putting condoms in their own locker? She’s certifiable. I open my mouth to say just that, when a tugging of my arm causes me to meet the subtle shake of Shay’s head. Arching my brow in question, but still heeding her warning, I take a bite of humble pie and rethink my response.
“Thank you for resetting my locker,” I mumble and turn and stomp out the door with Shay on my heels.
This school and the people in it are testing my soul. But I’m thankful Shay stopped me. I need to remember that we can’t leave. For once, my brothers and sister are happy and I will put up with the elitist bull for the sake of them. I just have to hope I’m not pushed too far. These people need to understand I’m not an easy target.
* * *
The day is flyingby and I’m thankful for it. All anyone is talking about is the fight from yesterday or the condoms in my locker, not to mention all of the stupid slut-shaming comments I’ve been getting all day. I really feel like I’m stuck in some C-list bully movie. Condoms in someone’s locker is honestly the lamest attempt at trying to shame someone. In the era of polyamory and sexual freedoms, you’d think these idiots would refrain from calling girls sluts.
“Skanky whore,” some random boy says and his dumb friends laugh along with him.
Case in point.Rolling my eyes I walk by him and his friends, not giving him the time of day. Before this day is over my eyes are going to get stuck with the amount of rolling they’ve had to do.
The gurgling of my stomach has me heading to the kiosk to put my lunch order in before I find a lunch table to wait for Shay to arrive. I haven’t really met anyone else, but it’s to be expected. This school is obviously full of followers and Sam has determined that my stay here will be a miserable one.
Just as I’m about to sit down a pair of tan, muscled arms wrap around me. Shrieking, I’m lifted off the ground and carried out a set of double doors leading out of the cafeteria. My heart is thumping so hard I swear I can feel it beating in my teeth. I try to look for help, but everyone is just carrying on like I am not being abducted from the lunch room. Stupid fucking sheep. They definitely don’t follow the ‘see something, say something’ motto.
Before I can even get my bearings and begin to fight my captor speaks, “Well hello there, trash whore.” I would know the baritone rasp of that voice anywhere. Freaking Wes! I should’ve figured it was him. He was too quiet and I was stepping all over his elite line.
“Trash whore, so original,” I snap, leaning forward.
“I’m just calling it like I see it,” he retorts, squeezing me tighter in his hold, halting my forward progress.
“What in the absolute fuck is wrong with you?” I shout as I throw my head back into his face, causing him to drop me to the floor of the dark room.
“Fuck,” he hisses.Good.I hope I broke his nose or at least bruised it. It’s the least the assholian deserves for snatching and scaring the crap out of me like that.
While he’s in pain, I take time to let my eyes adjust to the dark. I’m in what looks like the janitor’s closet. I can make out buckets to mop the floor and smell the industrial cleaning supplies.
Now that I know where I am, I need to get the hell out of here. As soon as I try to get up to leave, his hand shoots out, wraps around my throat, and my body hits the wall of the room with a thud. I’m slammed so hard my breath stutters.
Wes leans in so close his spearmint fresh breath caresses the skin of my cheek.
“Listen and listen good,” he grits out. “You’ve only been here for two days and you’re causing more problems than you’re worth, which isn’t very much to begin with.” His grip tightens and spots of black begin to dot my vision as he continues, “So, I am going to give you one final warning. Learn your place and stop causing trouble. If I have to talk to you again, the outcome will be far worse than a simple choking out in a closet. Are we clear, Ariah?” He growls before adding, “For your sake, I hope we are because no selection can save you from me.”
Selection? What the fuck is he talking about?
Dots swirl around me, the fog encroaching my vision from the strength of his hold, cutting off my questioning thoughts. He squeezes a tad tighter and my eyesight whites out. I feel the pressure on my lungs fighting to gain access to air. I’m about to pass out, but then he releases his grip and my body hits the floor with a hard thwack.
My lungs seek out air, ignoring the chemical smell to it. They expand and contract until I’m no longer gasping. My vision starts to clear in time for me to see the last of his exit and hear the deafening slam of the closet door…boom!
Raising my hand, I begin to massage my throat while trying to get my breathing back to normal. This damn town is full of a different type of crazy. Who chokes someone in a high school janitor’s closet? Not to mention not one person, staff or student alike, did anything.Fucking sheep. This school is definitely not producing the next generation of leaders, instead it’s more like sociopaths.
I take another minute before slowly getting to my feet. It will take more than condoms in my locker, slut shaming, and Wes, the bitch boy of Edgewood Academy, choking me to get me to quit this town.
My siblings love it here and that alone is enough to endure the bullshit these entitled fucks dish out. Once I’m sure I’ve regained my composure, I grip the closet door, rip it open, and step out into the hallway more determined than ever to make this dumbass town work.
They are going to have to try harder if they want to snuff out my flame.
12
