Page 24 of Broken by my Bully
I lace my fingers and flip my hands up, cracking several knuckles at once as I stretch my arms to the intricately molded ceilings.
Ezra’s right. The sooner she’s gone, the better for Agony Hollow College.
Better for me, too.
My frat bros want me to abuse my power?
Let’s see what’s behind door number one.
Right.
Me, snapping Haven like a fucking twig.
Haven
I opted for a ballerina bun today. Makes my hair look less greasy, and I think it goes better with the calf-length yellow sundress I’m wearing. It’s thrifted, but it’s got Gucci on the label so I’m calling it vintage and rolling with it.
There’s even a lick of mascara on my lashes. Don’t know how long it was in the glove compartment before I found it, so I’m definitely risking an eye infection.
Worth it.
After listening to the ‘healing affirmations’ cassette tape I also discovered in the glove box, I’m ready to tackle whatever fresh hell comes my way.
I am happy.
I am successful.
I am worthy.
And fuck anyone who thinks otherwise.
Nora smiles when she sees me, and that smile blossoms into a grin when I slap the Financial Responsibility form down on the freshly polished counter.
“That was quick!”
I shrug like it’s nothing. “I told his guru it would mess with my dad’s vibes if I got kicked out of college because he was too busy aligning his chakras to sign a form.”
She giggles as she slides the form down to her desk and gives it a quick scan. “Beautiful, thank you, sweetie.”
When she looks up and sees a candy bar sitting on the counter, her cheeks turn rosy.
“They were on sale. BOGO!” I give her a wink, wiggling my fingers at her as I tuck my tote bag under my arm and head for the stairs.
I almost make it.
“Oh, Haven, dear! Just a minute, sweetie.”
Fuck.
Well, no matter how this ends, at least I went down swinging.
My hand is still on the balustrade as I turn to give her a forced smile. “Uh-huh?”
“The annual Rain Dance is coming up. The flyers just got dropped off this morning. Would you like one?”
Stress kills. My cortisol levels must be sky high by now.
I trot back to her to fetch a flier, the slap of my flip-flops seeming to echo through the hushed reception area. I wish I could say they were some designer brand too, but they’re about three flops away from disintegrating, so…
