Page 8 of Brutal Titan

Victoria

Stepping into first period, Mr. Sutton greets me warmly and I return the acknowledgement with a smile. The morning hasn’t felt as smothering as the first day since all the unknowns and unfamiliarities are out of the way. Now it’s just a matter of going through the motions. Opening my calculus book, I skim the pages as Allison plops in a desk next to me. Great.

“So, I’m guessing the word got out.”

Looking to her with confusion, a million thoughts about what she’s referring to zip through my mind, none of them good. “What are you talking about?”

“Question is, who really is the winner, Victoria?” Smirking she waits like I’m supposed to understand her cryptic question. When she realizes I’m not planning on responding, she continues, “Elliot or Grant? I’m guessing Bass discovered your fun time with Grant from that showdown in the hallway.”

“There’s nothing for Elliot to discover because nothing happened between Grant and me, and once again, what are you talking about? What ‘showdown’?”

“You don’t know.” Her smirk turns into a full-blown grin as she excitedly informs me of the news. “Elliot started a fight with Grant, and from the looks of it, Elliot was the clear winner. But I’m dying to know who’s the bigger winner in the bedroom.”

How was I ever friends with this neurotic twit? I don’t particularly care for either asshat’s well-being, but the last thing I want to discuss are their dick sizes. “I wouldn’t know.”

Chuckling she stands from the desk. “Sure, Victoria. I’m sure that’s why Elliot just tried to murder Grant with his bare fists in the hallway.”

“They’re dumbasses. It had nothing to do with me,” That was a little louder than I’d planned, as evidenced by Mr. Sutton looking from me to Allison as she leaves the classroom. A few curious students are still looking to me like they expect me to say something else. But I can’t because I have no clue what’s going on. And now thanks to Allison, I have to know. Elliot had gone out of his way to question me about Grant—twice. And even though I’d told him it was nothing, moving on was my way of dealing with all of it and not extending the torment further. I just want to forget everything about that night, sleezy Grant and idiot Bass included.

It takes everything I have to focus on the calculus lesson until the bell sounds, signaling the end of first period. Quickly standing from the desk, I hurry out of the classroom and down the corridor to the front office. Staying away would be the best thing but there’s something about Elliot Bass that brings out the fool in me. Taking the opportunity while the secretary is occupied with a student, I peek into one of the small office doorways and spot Grant sitting at a table. His head is tilted to the side with an ice pack covering one eye while the other is closed. Ouch. I can’t feel sympathy for him, but I can imagine that it is about as painful as it looks.

“Can I help you, Victoria?” Mrs. Ruth asks, signaling for me to come to her desk.

The office secretary has been the same over the years, and thankfully I’ve only ever been summoned to the front office for good occasions. “Yes, ma’am. I was looking for Elliot. There’s an important assignment I need to speak with him about,” I lie.

She gives me her stern, no-nonsense look as she debates on if she should allow it.

“I promise, it’ll be quick.” That is not a lie. It won’t take very long for me to tell him he’s an idiot and hope he will tell me it had nothing to do with me.

“Make it quick,” Mrs. Ruth says, pointing to a door that’s open just a few down from the one Grant is occupying.

“Thanks, Mrs. Ruth.”

“Mm-hmm.”

That’s a good response from Mrs. Ruth, so I don’t hesitate to move past her. Quickly slipping through the doorway, I close the door behind me. Elliot is reclined in a chair, his fingers entwined casually behind his head.

Moving his head slightly to the side, his smug glare holds me as I instinctively prop a hand on my hip. “What brings you in, Lil’ V?”

“Seriously? Is everything a joke to you?”

“It appears that way, doesn’t it?” He turns his head, focusing his eyes back to the ceiling.

“Did you start it? Why were you even fighting with Grant to begin with? I realize you’re an idiot, but this is ridiculous even for you.”

He chuckles, dropping his hands to his sides as his head falls back. “Now you want to talk.”

“No, I really don’t. This is the last place I want to be.”

“Then get the hell out, but be sure to check on your boy toy on the way. He wasn’t looking so hot the last time I saw him.”

He doesn’t look so great and from Elliot’s arrogant demeanor, he’s proud of himself for that tidbit.

This is the last place I should be. “You’re hopeless.”

“So I’ve been told,” Elliot mumbles. Leaning forward, his hands drop to the table and his gaze drops to its surface while his fingers tap against the hardwood.

“No. I’m not going to feel sorry for you. I’m more than certain you brought this on yourself, but just know, if it had anything to do with what you think happened over the weekend, drop it. That’s all I want to do. Everything about the weekend was a mistake, and I’m ready to forget all of it happened.”

“Pretty full of yourself to think this had anything to do with you. I was warning Quinn about the douchebag and things escalated. Besides, why would I fight anyone over a pussy I don’t even want?”

“Good. Then it shouldn’t be hard to stay away from said pussy.” As I move to the door, he has to get in one last jab, just in case I don’t think he’s a big enough jerk already.

“Don’t worry. It’s not hard at all.”

I don’t acknowledge the anatomical reference as I walk out of the room because no matter what I say, he’ll have the last word. And with Elliot Bass, you lose even if you win because he really is hopeless.