“HisSunshine,” Marcus sings.
“Let me see!” she shrieks.
“No, no,” Grantpurrs. “Read it to us.”
I’m mortified. This is a nightmare. Why haven't I woken up yet?
Marcus clears his throat, putting on a whiney voice as he narrates Remy’s precious words— mutilating them. I blink faster, trying to force the tears back into my eyes.
“Hmm, could be a girl,” Jessica hums, her manicured nails skimming down my bare arm, raising goosebumps in their wake.
I find a palm tree overhead to focus on. The wind lifts the individual fronds. Mocking laughter is swallowed by white noise as I count the leaves to steady my wheezing.
Inhale. One.
Exhale. Two.
Inhale—
Something hard and heavy slams into my stomach. A knee. I bow forward, jaw dropping open in search of oxygen but getting nothing. Again in the same spot. My vision vignettes. A third time. Shock is wearing off as the pain radiates outward.
Instinct finally takes over.
My hands grapple for purchase, nails scratching the football star’s wrist but he won’t let up. I’m suffocating. Maybe I’ll pass out. At least in unconsciousness, I won’t have to listen to their taunts which blend together, fusing with the demonic whispers in my mind.
Pathetic. Loser. Gay. Weak. Pussy.
“What the fuck is going on?”
A gust of air fills my lungs. My legs give out—
The concrete sidewalk bites my palms.
“None of your business, church girl,” Grant snaps.
Blinking through the tears, I make out Andrea’s silhouette. With arms crossed over her chest, she glares at the three monsters surrounding me.
“You know you’re assaulting a student on school property,” she growls, turning first to Marcus. “If I were to report you… you’d be suspended or even expelled,” shifting her glare to Jessica, “Kicked off the squad,” Finally, she pins the devil with her glower, “Or worse… have your college acceptance rescinded.”
Grant advances on her, towering over her tiny frame.
“You wouldn’t fucking dare.”
But Andrea doesn’t back down. She lifts her chin. “Why wouldn’t I? No one likes a bully, Grant. Especially not college football teams.”
“Little shit,” he spits, lunging—
Marcus grabs his furious leader’s wrist a second before he touches the petite cheerleader.
“Dude, you can’t hit the principal's daughter,” Marcus hisses. But he has no issue attacking me…Right.
Andrea bats her lashes innocently at Grant.
She’s fucking insane.
Red splotches rise up his neck and color his cheeks. “You’re not gonna say shit, prude.”
With a saccharine smile, Andrea shrugs. “I guess you’ll have to be on your best behavior. Try asking, What would Jesus do? Because if not… I might accidentally slip up in front of my dad.”
