“Hey, Rowyn,” some guy calls out just as I make it to my desk. My eyes meet Grayson's, but I quickly look away and turn to the guy calling me.
“Yes?” I say awkwardly because no one usually speaks to me, so this interaction is already weird.
“There’s a frat party tomorrow night. You should come. Bring a friend.” He smiles, handing me a flyer. I take it, then sit down and immediately scream, jumping up, dropping my books. They scatter across the floor as I grip my ass. What the fuck? I look down at my seat and see it’s covered in silver tacks. The whole room erupts into laughter, and I can feel the blood dripping through my jeans from the tiny stab wounds. The professor walks in, and I walk up to her.
“Are you going to do something about this? There’s tacks all over my seat,” I shout, and her eyes widen.
“First of all, Ms. Hale, lower your voice and watch your tone, young lady. Now, what seems to be the problem?” she asks, and I huff.
“There’s tacks all over my seat, and I know who is responsible for this!” I spit, but she waves me off.
“Are you okay, dear? I don’t see any tacks on your seat,” she says, looking over my shoulder. Myhead whips around, and she’s right. There’s nothing there.What the fuck?My eyes narrow at Grayson, who's wearing a smirk.
“Maybe you should go talk to the psychologist, Rowyn. Are you hallucinating?” he asks, and I gasp as shame settles in my chest.
“I am not imagining this. You put them there. Everyone saw it,” I accuse, and he stands, looking around the room.
“Did anyone see anything?” he asks, and everyone shakes their head. “See. You should go get some help, Rowyn. You’re just embarrassing yourself at this point.” He chuckles and so does everyone in the room. I look back at the teacher who just sits down at her desk, ignoring the entire altercation.
“You’re not going to help me? He should get detention or at least take accountability for what he’s done!” I shout, and she looks up at me.
“Ms. Hale, you've wasted enough of my time. Please leave. Go see Dr. Fry,” she orders, and my eyes widen. Misti was right. These guys are untouchable, and they have everyone in their pockets. This is bullshit!
Sitting in the library waiting for Kade to show up, I keep squirming in my seat, trying to find a spot that won't make me constantly wince from the pain, but it's useless. After I stormed out of Professor Strickland's class, I went back to my room, and luckily, Misti was there. It was embarrassing enough having her help me, but I'm grateful she was there. I wouldn't have been able to help myself. A throat clearing and a backpack slamming against the table takes me out of my thoughts. My eyes snap up, and a pissed-off Kade looks down at me.
“Didn’t I tell you to wear a specific outfit earlier today?” he states, and my eyes widen.
“Uh, I don’t remember,” I answer truthfully, and he huffs.
“I did. Maybe you should get your head out of your ass and pay attention more,” he growls, sitting in his seat. I ignore him, not wanting to feed into his bullshit because I know it won’t end well for me, and frankly, I’m not in the mood. He unzips his bag and takes out a textbook, then throws a piece of paper at me. “It’s due next week,” he tells me, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair.
“Okay. Then get started,” I fire back, and he raises a brow.
“Did I give you permission to speak?” he snarls. What in the actual fuck? I don’t know what his problem is, but he’s starting to seriously piss me off.Instead of answering, I just take out my phone and shoot Misti a text.
Me:
Will you come with me tonight to a game?
Misti:
Which one?
Me:
Baseball
Misti:
Uh, there isn’t one.
I still for a second, narrowing my eyes at the screen.What? There’s no baseball game tonight? Then why—
“Ya know, it's extremely rude of you to be on your phone during my time. You have work to do,” he grumbles, and I take a deep breath. “I didn’t give you permission to breathe like that either.” He chuckles, and I roll my eyes, mumbling ‘dickhead’ under my breath. “What was that?” he asks, and I narrow my eyes at him.
“Are you done with your attitude? I’ve already had a shit day, and I don’t need your bullshit adding to it too,” I spit, and he smirks.
“That mouth of yours is going to be stuffed if you keep running it,” he threatens, and I bite my lip.
