“Come on, Mallory, give us a peek of the goods,” she sneers, stepping forward to grab at my towel. “What’s got Saint and the boys so goddamn hot for you? What’s so fucking special about you?”
I don’t think. Instinct takes over completely, and I throw my fist at her as hard as I can. I connect with her nose and she goes flying backwards, landing on her ass on the floor, blood streaming down her face. She releases an ear-shattering scream as she cups her hands over her nose and begins to cry. Her friends all appear horrified, hovering around her, but not a single one of them is certain what they can do to help.
“What on Earth is going on here?”
I jump at our teacher’s thunderous voice. Glancing over my shoulder, I feel the blood drain from my face as he storms toward us, face flushed red.
“Ellis!” he barks, taking in the scene. “What did you do?”
I stare at him, my mouth hanging open like a fish, unable to speak. This is bad. This is really, really bad. I just hit Laurel, the student council president. I may have even broken her nose. And that motherfucker must have cost a fortune.
They’ll expel me for this! They’re going to expel me, and I’ll have to go back to Georgia.
“Mr. Norris, I…” I don’t know what to say. I can see my future flushing down the drain right before my eyes, all because I couldn’t keep my damn temper under control.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
“Ellis, you’re in so much trouble, I—”
“Mr. Norris, hold up!” I blink as Gabe suddenly appears at my side, slightly out of breath, his red hair spiked with moisture. Where the hell did he come from?
“Carlson? What do you want?”
Gabe holds his hands up. “I saw the whole thing, sir. You can’t blame Ellis for this.”
What. The. Fuck?
Have I stepped into a different dimension?
Did Laurel punch me instead and this is all a side effect of my concussion?
“What’d you see?” Mr. Norris asks, folding his arms over his wide chest.
“Laurel stole Mallory’s clothes and wouldn’t give them back,” Gabe quickly explains. “She was taunting her with them, sir. Mallory was just defending herself.”
Our teacher glances toward Laurel, who’s sobbing as though she’s dying, and arches a brow as he looks back at us.
“Defending herself? Seems a little extreme of a defense, don’t you think?”
Gabe looks at me for a second, then gives a one-shouldered shrug. “Maybe, but can you really blame her? I mean, Laurel’s not the best example of Christ-like behavior and she’s supposed to be president of the Student Christian Fellowship, so…”
The greedy televangelist’s hard-partying, sex-addict kid just dropped the Jesus card.
It takes all my strength not to snort out loud.
Mr. Norris appears to consider Gabe’s words for several moments. At length, he releases a weary sigh and shakes his head. “Justified or not, we can’t have students smashing each other in the face. Detention, Ellis. You’ll clean up the cafeteria after breakfast and dinner for the next week, got it?”
A breath of relief escapes my lungs so fast, my voice is squeaky when I reply, “Yes sir.”
At least I’m not expelled.
Mr. Norris goes to help Laurel up and takes her out of the gym. Her flock follows after them, crooning words of comfort her way, and throwing insults my way.
When they’re gone, I take a moment to collect myself before I turn my gaze to Gabe. “Thanks,” I say slowly. “That was … surprising of you.”
Bending down, he picks up my panties and twirls the scrap of pink lace and cotton on his finger.
“Nothing comes for free around here.”
“What—”
Before I can ask him what he means, he pockets my underwear and makes his way out of the gym without a backwards glance.
12
My perfect attendance is getting shot to hell, and it’s all Laurel’s damn fault.
When I reported for my first day of detention this morning after breakfast, I knew it was going to be hell, and I wasn’t wrong. People lingered in the dining hall specifically to mock me. Whatever reverence they might have felt toward me when they thought I was sleeping with Saint vanished the moment word got out the rumors weren’t true. I’m back to being reviled, and after what I did to Laurel, the target on my back only got bigger.
She was in the dining hall, waiting for me. Ready to make me miserable and torment me. She and her friends had spread out over three tables and destroyed the areas around them. Overturned coffee cups, syrup covering chairs, food littering the floor—each table looked like an army of toddlers had gone to town on it. I did take some comfort in the fact that Laurel looks like absolute shit. Her nose is hidden behind a plastic cast, and the dark bruises under her eyes made her look like a racoon. As haughty as she’d been as I was forced to my knees to clean up her mess, she looked pathetic.
By the time I was finally done cleaning, it was well past my hour for detention and I was covered in filth. Rushing back to my dorm, I’d had to shower and change as fast as possible, but it was no use in the end. I couldn’t make up the lost time.
My lungs burn with my effort to make it to English class on time, even as my brain works to make peace with the fact that I won’t.
My classroom is just around the corner, and as I go careening around it, I barely avoid running into a broad back making its way down the hall at a more leisurely pace. I stumble and nearly fall, but a strong hand catches my arm and helps me find my balance again.
“Thank…” I trail off as I realize it’s Liam standing next to me. I don’t know anyone else with a tattooed wrist, and I creep my gaze up his navy blazer until my blue eyes lock with his deep brown irises. He frowns down at me, his dark brow wrinkling as he quickly releases my arm.
“Watch where you’re going,” he growls, tugging his blazer sleeve back down to cover the ink.
“Sorry,” I mumble, feeling awkward and unsure of myself. This is the first we’ve spoken since the night of the beach party. I’d never even thanked him for saving me.
He’s already resumed walking toward class, so I hurry to catch up. I want to ask him why he’s late too, but I don’t dare. It’s clear he’s not interested in rekindling our lukewarm relationship, and I don’t want to push him and make him dislike me anymore than he clearly does. When we both wander into class, well after the bell has rung, all eyes turn to stare at us.
Including our teacher, Miss Stewart. She doesn’t look pleased as she folds her arms over her chest and taps a finger impatiently against her elbow.
“Thank you for joining us, Ellis, Halloway. You made it just in time to be assigned as each other’s partner.”
“What?” we both blurt out in unison. I glance toward Liam, and his eyes are wide.
Miss Stewart gives a slow nod and stares at us like we’re idiots. “You’ll be writing a collaborative paper and presenting on the works of Charles Dickens. I suggest you quickly make arrangements to meet up after school and take your seats.”
This day just gets better and better.
We drag our feet to the back of the class, but before we part ways to find our seats, Liam pauses.