The bitch.
When she steps in front of me, I cross my arms over my chest and bare my teeth at her. “Get out of my way, Laurel.”
She chuckles and fluffs her platinum bob with her ridiculously long fingernails. Jesus, how does this bitch wipe her ass with those things? “No, I don’t think so. I’m enjoying this far too much to walk away from the fun just yet.”
“Enjoying what?” I demand.
“Watching you get shit all over, again and again. First Mr. Porter makes it crystal clear he doesn’t give a fuck what happens to you, and now Coach Friedricks is showing you how low of a priority you really are to her. You’re fucking pathetic, Mallory. You should really just quit, or better yet, why don’t you just go off somewhere and die?”
Her goons giggle around her, and that’s all I can take. I’m at my limit—in patience and fucks given. I take a step closer to Laurel and get right in her face. “You know what? I actually feel sorry for you.”
She appears momentarily surprised. “For me? Why in the hell would you feel sorry for me?”
I tilt my head, like a predatory snake about to strike. “Because, after everything you’ve done to please Saint, he still doesn’t want you.”
She flushes, her eyes going feral. “Says the nasty slut he was just using. I hope he double bagged, or we’ll probably have a new fire just so you can take care of another piece of your redneck crotch fruit.”
It takes every ounce of strength not to show a reaction to that, but my insides? My insides feel like they’re being torched. I allow a ghost of a smile to touch my lips, then give her a slow, unaffected blink. “How’s that relationship working out for you and Saint, Laurel?”
Her upper lip curls toward the tip of her altered nose. “You stupid slut.”
“That’s a new one I’ve never heard before,” I drawl in the most monotone voice possible. “Now move, bitch. I’m not doing this with you anymore.”
When I attempt to walk around her, though, her hand snakes out and she whips me back around. I react without considering the consequences and push her into one of her friends.
Murder gleams in her stare when she rights herself, but this time when she reaches out to stop me, I don’t lash out at her. I remind myself what’s at stake. “You’re going to pay for taking away someone I gave a fuck about,” she snarls.
At first, I think she’s talking about Saydi since the girl had followed Laurel around like a lost little lamb and worshipped the ground she walked on, but as I glare into her eyes, I realize that’s not the case. That’s not the case at all.
“This isn’t about the fire,” I murmur. “This is about him.”
Hell, maybe that’s the reason behind her red eyes from earlier, too.
Her nostrils flare, but she says nothing. Just rocks back slightly on the heels of her overpriced designer shoes.
“You’re pitiful,” I say, shaking my head incredulously.
“And you’re a trailer trash tragedy that still can’t figure out when to fuck off.”
We’re starting to draw quite the crowd, but I don’t care. They all think I’m worthless anyway. Why not let them enjoy a good ol’ fashioned bitch fight?
“Better a trailer park tragedy than a pretentious princess who doesn’t give a shit about anyone but herself,” I retort on a chuckle. “But at least I knew where I stood with your fucking master, Laurel. You let him use you and he still chose someone else to—”
She lets out a shriek, and I’m fairly sure she’s going to attack, which I welcome gladly. I tense, readying for her to fly at me so that I can play the self-defense card when I’m hauled into Aldrige’s office, but a big hand suddenly lands on my shoulder and yanks me back.
“I think that’s about enough.”
I peer up to find Liam standing at my side. His dark brows are arched, and he almost looks entertained. His grip is firm, though, and he’s angled his body so that he’s partially blocking me from Laurel.
“Get the hell out of here, Halloway,” she growls. “This isn’t any of your business.”
“I’m making it my business,” he replies easily, his fingers flexing into my shoulder. “You’re acting like a royal bitch, L.”
“I’m acting like a bitch? Mallory is…”
“Not your problem. Go find someone else to harass.” With that, he turns me around and guides me away from the blonde, who’s still sputtering in indignation as her friends hiss insults at me.
“What are you doing?” I murmur as he walks me further and further away from them.
“What do you think? Getting you out of there before the wolves tore you apart,” he answers through gritted teeth.
“I was doing just fine,” I insist. “I’m not afraid of them.”
“You were stirring up shit you’re not prepared to deal with.”
Who the hell does he think he is now? My therapist? Still, I can’t deny the truth behind his words as I snort. “Please, I can handle Laurel and her dumb-fuck posse…”
Just as we reach the front of my building, he jerks me to a stop and spins me around so that we’re face to face. “You’ve got to watch yourself, all right?” he says, bending his head closer to mine. “People aren’t going to be pulling their punches with you anymore.”
“They’ve been pulling their punches?” I scoff. That’s hard to believe.
“Yes. They have.” He holds my gaze, and the look in his chocolate brown eyes sends a chill running down my spine.
“Oh,” I breathe, feeling the full weight of his warning.
We stand there for several seconds before he puffs out a harsh breath and scrubs his hand over his face. He must be frustrated, because when the sleeve of his white shirt rides up, he doesn’t even bother to fix it. “Just watch yourself, okay? I won’t always be around to save your stubborn ass.”
I can’t help but crack a small smile. “Thank you for that, by the way. And for class. Did you get in trouble?”
His shoulders roll back but he doesn’t answer.
Just like when I asked how he got my home address.
“You should get inside,” he says instead, tipping his head toward the front doors of my building, and I have to admit I’m a little disappointed he’s being so tight-lipped about his punishment.
He turns, as if to walk away, but a question that’s been burning my brain suddenly bursts through my lips.
“Liam, did you … did you leave me something the night of the fire?”
He pauses, his brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“Never mind.” It doesn’t appear it was him, which leaves me stumped as to who could’ve sent me the picture and note.
He watches me for several moments, like he wants to ask more questions, then he murmurs, “I’ll be at the pool later.”
“Oh.”
Lamest. Response. Ever.
“Yeah. Oh.” He offers me a half-grin and then turns to walk away, calling over his shoulder, “That was an invitation, by the way, Ellis.”
That night, I sneak to the rec center, and sure enough, Liam’s there.