Was that a threat?
I ate my crackers and cheese in silence, frowning at him. Vaughn watched me the whole time, and I…I wasn’t sure if I liked his attention or not. Sure, he was attractive, but there was obviously something else going on. Something with his family and Ollie, something they’d need privacy to discuss.
Maybe I wouldn’t just ask about Ollie. Maybe I’d ask about Vaughn’s family, too. I filed those questions away for later; first I had to get through the afternoon, including a session with Bobbi in the choir room after last period. I’d already told Mom I needed some musical tutoring, and she was just happy I was actually getting into something.
I wasn’t, but I couldn’t tell her that.
Vaughn and I hardly spoke the rest of lunch, and when the bells rang overhead, I hurried to pick up my stuff and leave, not even telling him goodbye. If he wanted to be creepy, whatever. He could be. No one was stopping him. But I wasn’t going to sit there and take it with a smile on my face, either.
I wanted an easy afternoon, at least my last classes, anyway—I knew that choir tutoring would be like nails on a chalkboard—but when I made it to my locker after lunch, I saw a girl standing near it, a purse that probably cost a few hundred dollars, or more, slung across her shoulders. Her blonde hair was curled, tumbling down her back. Today she wore four-inch heels and a dress that hugged the curves on her body.
I didn’t know her name, but I did remember her from before: the girl who accused me of being Ollie’s next wife. Or plaything. Or whatever.
“Um,” I spoke, causing her to lean her back against the lockers and look at me. “You’re kind of blocking my locker.”
Her lips, painted in a dark, matte red, curled into a smile. “I know. I just wanted to make sure I got your attention.”
A part of me wanted to tell her she’d got my attention last week after the things she’d said, but I held it in. Maybe this girl wasn’t as bad as her first impression gave off. Maybe she was actually nice.
Hah. Probably a pipe dream. She kind of radiated bitch, even when she wasn’t outright being one.
“Well, you have it,” I said, really hoping she’d get to the point fast. Hardly anyone had spoken to me so far, unless they were forced to. I wasn’t under the impression that I had any friends here, but making enemies, I knew, was a no-go. Lay low, be good. Don’t get the entire high school upset with me by being mean to one of its most popular students.
I had no idea if this chick was popular, and I didn’t really care. I meant it, though, when I said I didn’t want to make enemies. I still had half a year left, and if Mom and I ended up staying here, I didn’t want to live through hell for the next six months until graduation. Hell was not on my bucket list.
“I’ve been trying to figure you out,” the girl said, eyeing me up. “You came to school with Oliver Fitzpatrick once, but ever since then, you come in a ratty minivan the nineties are missing. Word around town is Oliver hired a maid—and what’s even worse, the maid lives with him. That wouldn’t be you, would it? Or the middle-aged has-been who owns that van?”
Did she just call my mom a middle-aged has-been? I felt both insulted and amused. Who the hell insulted someone by calling them that? Wouldn’t that just mean her parents were middle-aged has-beens, too?
“What is your point?” I asked, cocking a hip and taking an attitude. Kind of hard not to, when this bitch refused to just go away.
“My point is, either way, you don’t belong here. You might be flying high now, but you’re not ready to face Midpark. Trust me, Jazmine, you won’t like what you see. Do us all a favor and drop out—or transfer. I’m sure there are online schools that’ll take you—”
Why the hell was she trying to get me to leave Midpark? I didn’t understand.
I also didn’t understand why she thought it was in her right to tell me all of these things. Bitch overload, thank you very much.
“I don’t know what I ever did to you, but whatever it is, I want to say I’m sorry,” I started, noting the way her expression started to change. “It’s what I want to say, but I’m not going to, because you’re being a bitch.”
The girl blinked, her amber stare narrowed as her lips puckered into a frown. “I’m sure you know exactly what you did. You might play coy and innocent, but no one in Midpark is innocent. I hope I’m there the moment you realize that.” Her frown morphed into a superior grin, and she gave me a wink before sauntering off in her four-inch heels, walking in them like a pro.
I watched her walk away, stunned at the encounter. Where the hell did she think she was coming from? What gave her any right to say those things to me? Insulting, demeaning…the list could go on. Whoever she was, she was not nice, and I hated her instinctively.
If she thought I’d be a good girl and let her bully me out of Midpark High, she had another thing coming.
Chapter Eleven – Jaz
The choir room was empty, the teacher gone. Ms. Haber must trust Bobbi, because we were alone in the room after official school hours, although with how Bobbi was acting, this was normal for her.
She must really love choir, for whatever weird reason.
I actually attempted to sing, too. Bobbi tried to smile at me while I was belting out the melody I had to learn, but I knew I was shit at it. I did hit a few of the higher notes, but when I looked down at the sheet music, it was a freaking puzzle to me. It could be written in an alien language for all I knew.
Bobbi sat beside me—though she made me stand straight, with perfect posture when I was singing—nibbling on the end of a pencil. Today her brown hair was in a messy bun, but she was one of those lucky girls who knew how to actually make their buns look cute. Anytime I put my hair in a bun, I looked like an ogre.
It was as I sat beside her, heaving out a sigh, that Bobbi asked, “Something’s bothering you. What is it?”
Oh, God. What wasn’t bothering me today? Archer, Vaughn and his family, everything with Ollie, not to mention that blonde chick and everything she’d said…and then, who could forget my appointment in—I glanced at my phone for the time—forty-five minutes, which meant we’d have to wrap up here soon so I could have enough time to walk to the meeting place. I’d also had to resort to emailing, which was just…so old-school.
Since I couldn’t tell Bobbi about all of my problems, I settled for one. I told her about the confrontation between me and that blonde chick near my locker. I kept out the part about Ollie, though I supposed if the blonde bitch wanted to, she could spread rumor after rumor about me. Who would this school believe: a newcomer, or someone who’d clearly been here her entire life?
After I finished relaying the story to Bobbi, I finished with, “I don’t even know who that girl is, and she’s intent on making my life hell here.” Surely seemed like it, anyway. I did not need any more drama. I already had enough shit on my plate, didn’t I?
Bobbi let out a thoughtful sound as she dug her phone out of her purse and typed in her passcode. “Was this her?” she asked, clicking on something on her phone before turning it to show me. She’d pulled up a picture of a group of girls wearing dresses—maybe their homecoming dance? I saw Bobbi on the end, though she looked just as dolled-up as the rest of them.