Untouched (Bay Falls High, #1)(19)

“Why?”

“Just… things,” I said.

“Well, if you ever want to talk about those things, I’m here,” Gi said. “No bullshit from me. You need friends to get around in BFH. Even bitchy friends like Iris are good to have.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Gi smiled and turned and started to run after Iris.

I heard her yell what the fuck is your problem? and the two started to argue over me.

I shook my head.

I didn’t get it.

I was dirt poor. I was the new girl. I was a nobody and a nothing.

Yet why did it feel like everything was slowly starting to revolve around me?





seven





When I opened my locker there was a pack of cigarettes waiting for me.

In the pack was one cigarette and a folded up piece of paper.

Written on it was a clear message.



nobody misses poor girls when they’re gone





There was no use in me even having a lock anymore because they would keep breaking it and breaking into my locker. And that meant I could either react or ignore it. Of course the pack, the cigarette, and the note all smelled like tall, hot guy.

Excuse me - Pres.

Pres.

I didn’t know what kind of name that was.

I left the stuff in my locker and slammed it shut.

When I turned, Vicky was right there.

Staring at me, tilting her head side to side.

“You look like a toy in a window,” I said. “Except dumber.”

“What did you just say to her?” Blair asked from behind Vicky.

“Are you deaf?” I asked Blair.

“It’s okay, Blair,” Vicky said.

Vicky reached into her pocket and I saw something in her hand.

My mind told me it was a weapon.

I jumped back and threw a punch, hitting Vicky in the lip.

She screamed and threw her hands into the air. Yeah, I had hit her, but the way she fell back into Blair’s arms… the award goes to…

It was a performance.

Blair dropped to her knees and called for help as Vicky pretended to be knocked out.

“What did you do?” Beth asked me as she finally decided to show up.

“Nothing,” I said.

“She punched Vicky,” Blair said.

“You punched Vicky?” Beth asked. “That’s badass.”

I looked around the hallway and saw everyone staring at me.

I didn’t want everyone staring at me.

“She tried to hurt me,” I said, pointing to Vicky. “She had something in her hand. She was going to…”

Vicky opened her hand and dropped the object.

It wasn’t a weapon.

It was a tampon.

A fucking tampon.

I sucked in a breath and felt ready to explode into tears.

Thinking about what Gi and Iris had said… plus what Beth had told me… plus what was in my locker…

I was on edge.

No.

I was over the edge.

Hanging by two fingers.

“Here comes Jacobson,” Beth said. “You better run.”

I took a step but paused.

I shook my head.

“I don’t run,” I said. “I don’t play games.”

“What is happening here?” Principal Jacobson yelled.

I was ready to face whatever was going to happen.

Then I heard Beth let out a small yell.

As I turned my head, I felt something - someone - grab my arm and pull.

I stumbled and was ripped from the hallway into one of the bathrooms.

It was the girls bathroom.

But it wasn’t a girl with their hand tight around my wrist.

I looked up at Pres and felt his eyes trying to break me.

The smell of his cologne attacking me the same.

I wanted to be tough. Curl my lip. Swing and slap his face.

“Picking more fights, sugar?” he asked.

“I didn’t pick any fights,” I managed to finally speak. “The fights picked me.”

“How fucking poetic,” Pres said. “Now the only question is how far would you go to get out of the trouble you’re in?”

“Who said I’m in trouble?”

Pres leaned down toward me. His eyes were such a rich dark brown they looked black. “I said you’re in trouble, sugar. Your eyes and mouth can’t seem to keep to themselves…” He reached down and took my right hand and lifted it. His thumb grazed over my knuckles and I winced. “And your hand. You should get some ice on this. So it doesn’t swell.”

“Why don’t you kiss it and make it all better?” I asked.

I wasn’t sure if that sounded tough or completely desperate.

My cheeks burned red hot as Pres brought my hand closer to his mouth.

Then at the last second, he cleared his throat and let a long string of spit drip from his mouth to my hand. When I tried to pull away he refused to let me go.

His spit moved from my middle knuckle to the back of my hand.

“I warned you, sugar,” he whispered.

Pres walked by me and ripped the door open so hard it echoed off the tiled walls with an ear shattering thud.