Page 9 of Missing

The last snickered, her laughter a jagged edge scraping against my patience. "Looks like charity cases are in season."

I took another bite of my apple, the crunch loud in my ears, buying a moment before I responded. I wasn't here to make friends—or enemies—but these girls clearly didn't get the memo.

"Listen," I began, the words sharp as shattered glass, "I don't know what back-asswards logic you're running on, but you can save it. I'm not interested in whatever mean girl bullshit script you think we're acting out." I met the leader’s gaze head-on, not blinking, not backing down. "So how about you prance along on your little power trip somewhere else?"

"Excuse me?" Her voice rose an octave, her composure cracking like thin ice under heavy boots.

"Did I stutter?" My heart was a drumbeat in my chest, fast and furious. "Avoid me. It'll save us all a lot of time."

They looked at each other, their expressions flickering between disbelief and outrage. I could practically see the cogs turning in their pretty heads, trying to figure out if I was serious. Spoiler alert: dead serious.

"Whatever," The leader spat out finally, flipping her hair over her shoulder with practised indignity.

I was still smouldering from their snide remarks when Melody's voice cut through the tension, sharp and unwavering. "You know, you're actually at the wrong table Jessica."

It's no surprise that her name is Jessica. In my experience, every Jessica I've met has been someone I've wanted to punch in the face.

Her perfectly sculpted eyebrows arched in disbelief. "Excuse me?"

"Let me spell it out," Melody said, her tone dripping with condescension. "This is the table for top-tier students—those with three powers or more."

A collective gasp rose around us, a symphony of scandalised murmurs. I bit back a smirk. Oh, this was going to be good.

"Are you implying we don’t belong?" One of the minion’s voices trembled with barely contained anger, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. The other just stood there, her face paling, as if the ground beneath her had shifted.

"Right on the nose, sweetheart." Melody tapped the tabletop mockingly. "Two powers each doesn't cut it here."

"Impossible." Jessica's voice cracked like thin ice. "We've always sat here with the boys."

"Not anymore, and the boys are not here to say differently" Melody replied coolly.

"Whatever," Jessica spat out, her composure cracking. "This place has gone to shit anyway." She pivoted on her heel, a flounce in her step meant to convey indifference, but I could taste the bitterness in her retreat.

"Come on, girls," she sneered over her shoulder. "Let's leave this bitch to enjoy her special table."

I watched them go, their backs rigid with outrage. Their insults lingered in the air, but they didn't sting—not anymore. Now, they just seemed... pathetic.

"Thanks for that," I said, genuine gratitude warming my chest.

"Anytime. Besides, it's not every day I get to put the 'mean girls' in their place." Her eyes twinkled mischievously. "It's kind of exhilarating."

"Melody, defender of the downtrodden tables." I chuckled, the absurdity of the morning washing over me.

"Sounds like a crappy superhero name," she joked, but there was pride in her voice.

"Better than being known as the high-and-mighty two-power trio," I quipped back, my mood lifting despite myself.

"Harper," she said suddenly, her expression turning serious, "you're going to ruffle feathers here. It's inevitable. But remember those who matter don't mind and those who mind..."

"Don't matter," I finished for her, the words brushing against the walls I'd built around myself.

"Exactly." Melody's hand found mine across the table, her touch light but grounding. "Now, let's eat. This drama has made me starving."

"Agreed." I turned my attention back to the food that had appeared before me, the apple now looking far more appealing than any power play.

Chapter 9

Orlando Greyson

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