Sweet Rome (Sweet Home, #1.5)(41)
“You’ve made your choice. Now you’ll have to live with it. I won’t pander to you.”
“What does that f*ckin’ mean?” I barked out again, trying to keep my voice low, as students around me began to stare in my direction.
I realized the phone had gone dead and, seeing the trash can before me, yelled out in frustration and sent the damn tin cylinder flying across the sidewalk with a huge kick. Shocked squeals from surrounding girls only infuriated me more, and, ripping into the cafeteria, ignoring the questioning looks from other people, I slumped down on my chair, staring, lost in thought, at the plastic tabletop.
What the hell did he mean? Jesus! He was forever f*cking with my head. I’d rather take a beating than this damn mental torture. At least with a punch I knew where I stood.
Lifting my head, I searched the room, desperately needing to see Molly, and when I did, I found those golden eyes already staring right back at me. Her eyebrows were drawn together with worry. Feeling slightly calmer knowing she was close, I gave her a reassuring tilt of my chin.
Not being able to hold her in my arms was killing me. Not being able to pull her onto my lap, kiss her damn neck, and show the world she was mine was friggin’ killing me.
The next hour was going to be torture.
I was right. Lunch seemed to drag on. And when Caroline strutted over and made a pass at me, spouting some shit about dethroning queen bitch Shelly—I didn’t care, wasn’t remotely interested in her slutty offer, and I sent her away with a dismissive wave, and a polite, “Fuck off!”
Chris Porter watched me curiously from a few seats down, a smirk on his smarmy face.
“What the f*ck you laughing at, Porter?” I snarled, my voice sounding lethal even to my ears.
“You batting for the other side now?” he tried to joke, so I flipped him the bird, hearing my teammates snicker in response.
At a loud bang, I looked toward the entrance of the cafeteria. And Shelly entered the room, immediately getting all up in Molly’s face. I watched, fury building within me as she ripped off Molly’s glasses, throwing them to the floor. It happened so fast, I didn’t even have a chance to do anything to prevent it.
“What’s wrong? Momma and Daddy got no money, sweetie? You poor, Molly?” Shelly bitched, loud enough for the entire room to catch every word. I didn’t hear the rest of what else that witch was spitting; my blood was rushing through my ears, drowning out the sound. Molly rose from her seat, a furious look in her eyes, but Shelly shoved her back into the chair.
My patience for dealing with *s had worn completely and totally thin, and slamming my fist on the table, I stood and ordered, “Enough!” so loud you could feel the vibrations in the plastic chairs. I glared right into Shelly’s eyes and spat, “Back the hell off her. What are you, twenty-one or twelve?”
The cafeteria came to a standstill at my words and, not giving a shit about Shelly’s reaction, I marched over to Molly, lifted her glasses off the floor, and pushed them back onto her flushed face before pressing my hands to her shoulders in comfort.
“Get your hands off her!” Shelly hissed from beside me, like she had some f*cking ownership, some claim on me. I took a quick glance about the room, noting a sea of eyes all staring at me in shock.
This day was going to absolute shit! First my daddy starting on me and issuing threats, now his golden child opening her damn mouth to one of the only two girls I gave a crap about. Fuck knows what my folks were up to. I’d find that out in time, but I was going to stop Shelly’s delusion now, publicly, and cut her down off her high horse.
Feeling an ounce of control settle back over my body, I rounded on Shelly, raising my voice so the entire room could hear. “Get it through your head. We’re not together, never will be. Time to cut the shit.” Pointing at Shelly, I faced the gawping crowd. “Despite what shit she may be spewing, know that I am not with her, never have been, and anything she says is utter bullshit!”
I made sure Molly was okay, then practically hoisted her off her seat and instructed, “Get your purse, Shakespeare. We’re leaving.”
Doing as I asked, Molly followed me out of the cafeteria and into the quad. With every step, I grew more annoyed. No one would even pay Molly an ounce of attention if it weren’t for me, if Shelly didn’t suspect I was into her. A smart chick like Mol wouldn’t even register on anyone’s radar—and their sorry lives would be worse off for it. My girl was getting ripped on because of me, and if she wasn’t so f*cking intent on keeping us a secret, I could tell them all that she was mine and they needed to back the hell off her.
Fine. I got it, and I didn’t want to rock that boat too much, scare her off before we’d really had a chance to get going, but she wouldn’t be targeted anymore because of those f*cking stupid glasses. I’d make sure of it.
“Romeo, slow down. Where are we going?” Molly panted from behind me. I didn’t stop or give an answer, unable to slow down for fear of marching back into the cafeteria and telling everyone the truth about us.
“Get in,” I ordered through clenched teeth once we reached my truck.
As we left school behind, every second in Molly’s presence calmed me down further, allowing me to ask, “Sure you’re okay?” She hadn’t said a thing since we’d been on the road, understanding that I couldn’t talk right now, that I needed some time to wind down.