Page 26 of Defiant
She was also more okay with it because I told her that Bobbi would be coming over after school on Friday to practice for choir. God, Thursday night she could not shut up about it, asking me all these questions, like Bobbi was my new best friend. Moving to Midpark in the middle of senior year kind of negated the whole best friend thing, especially considering she made me switch telephone numbers and drop all social media.
Bobbi was nice, don’t get me wrong, but I wasn’t sure I’d go so far as to consider her a friend.
It was a rather warm day, so I wore a hoodie to school, feeling only a little chilly as I walked. I was in a better mood than I was mere days ago. Maybe, revenge plots aside, things could turn around for me here.
I should’ve known not to think something as optimistic as that.
My locker was open when I got to school, something black stuffed inside it. My legs immediately slowed as I approached it in the hall, and I threw glances around, trying to see if Brittany and her crew were near, or even Archer.
No one, just a sea of faces going about their morning.
I inched toward my locker, unease settling in my gut as I reached for the door and pried it open. Whoever it was had gotten in, maybe with a janitor key, or maybe used their charm to wile it out of the office staff.
The black thing turned out to be my leather jacket from the party. I pulled it out, holding it as far away from me as I could to study it. Seemed to be in one piece…ah, hold up. As I flipped it to the back, I spotted something new. Someone had actually bedazzled my pleather jacket with the word slut.
Lovely.
I shoved it back in my locker, fuming as I picked out what I’d need for my first few classes. I loved that jacket, I did. It was worn and old, but it was something that reminded me of home—our old home. My old school. My old life.
Things were so much simpler back then. Shutting out my old life completely had been…more than a little hard. This high school and the students in it were nothing like the ones I was used to, the games they played different. But, in the end, it didn’t matter.
With my head held high, I marched to homeroom, choosing a few choice words to tell Brittany, should her ass be in my seat again. Alas, the bitch wasn’t there. Archer was though, so as I headed towards my seat in the back, I figured I’d just tell him a simplified version of it.
“You can tell your girlfriend that I got her present,” I said, glaring at him as I slid into my seat. Everyone else was chatty, the room loud, so I didn’t bother trying to whisper. Had to make sure the bastard heard me, after all.
Archer’s blue eyes turned to me, though he said nothing.
“You can also tell her that I’m not going to take this lying down. Same goes for you.”
His gaze dropped, and it took him a moment to mutter, “I’m not scared of you.”
“You should be,” I said. He and Brittany probably thought I was alone, and I mostly was, but I’d accepted Vaughn’s help—for a yet unnamed price. He was going to use his family’s connections to dig up whatever dirt he could on them, and I was going to use it however I saw fit. I was not above making their lives a living hell.
What could I say? Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Archer and Brittany would get theirs, and I would enjoy the hell out of it.
Lunch came around soon enough. It was kind of funny—the more time that passed, the more normal this all felt. Me, being the outsider, knowing that everyone thought I was some wannabe homewrecker, felt more normal. I was anything but; I never would’ve hooked up with Archer had the dickhead told me he was dating someone else, but no one else knew that. And trying to defend myself now would yield no results. It was pointless.
With my bagged lunch in my hands, I headed to the cafeteria. Or I was going to, but then, just as I was about to turn into the hall that would lead to the cafeteria, three figures appeared, blocking my way. Three girls, led by one blonde bitch.
Brittany was surrounded by her two closest friends. I remembered them from the party, the smiles on their faces as they laughed and watched—and videotaped. I still hadn’t seen the actual footage, but I knew it was out there. From every possible angle, too.
No one stepped in to help anymore. Everyone’s first thought was to bring out the phone and hit the record button.
The red-headed girl named Chelsea was on Brittany’s right, her kinky hair falling past her shoulders. The expression on her freckled face could kill, but I wasn’t too impressed by her sneer.
On Brittany’s left was Deetra. I’d seen her gossiping with the jocks in our grade quite a lot this week. Her brown skin was covered in a bright white shirt, hugging her curves tightly. Her black eyes were narrowed at me, her lips curled downward in a sneer to match the look Brittany wore.
Oh, I was sure they thought they were intimidating, but unlike that night at the party, I wasn’t drugged. I could hold my own.
Besides, the halls had cameras everywhere, so it wasn’t like I had to worry about much here. A few traded insults, but nothing huge.
“You like your jacket?” Brittany asked, her sneer turning into a grin as her friends chuckled beside her. “I figured the label fit, considering you can’t seem to keep your legs closed.” She was really hammering in the fact she viewed me as a slut, wasn’t she?
“Oh, I can keep them closed, but why bother when Archer was so clearly desperate for it?” I took a step toward her, my heart hammering in my chest. Brittany and I stood less than a foot away. If she attacked me, I’d drop my lunch bag in a heartbeat and retaliate—but as for the first blow? That wouldn’t be me.
Brittany’s hands were on her hips, and I could tell it took everything in her to not slap me after what I said next.
“Sure, he might be your boyfriend, but he was a greedy little bitch when we were alone in his room.” I chuckled. “It was like he couldn’t get enough. Makes me wonder if you’re not doing it for him anymore. Maybe he should dump your ass and date me instead.”
