And apparently what’s best for everyone is for me to disappear.
This shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does, but I feel like I’ve been totally blindsided. My knees wobble as I turn from her to head back to the locker room to change. I don’t say anything else. There’s really no point.
About fifteen minutes later, I’m back in my uniform skirt and blouse, my blazer stuffed in my gym bag as I storm from the rec center. My face is so hot that I know I must look like a damn cherry. Yeah, I’m angry, but the worst emotion of all? The all too familiar taste of dejection. I just want to get back to my dorm and spend the rest of the evening by myself. Today has just been one blow after another, and I’m emotionally emptied.
Of course, I don’t get a reprieve because that’s not how my life fucking works.
As I’m crossing the quad, who should show up in my path but Laurel and her lemmings. Well, half her lemmings. Her usual coven of bitches seems to have been cut in half, and as I release a grumble of frustration, I wonder if it’s because of Saydi’s death. Regardless, Vanderbitch is the last person I want to see right now. Is she following me around campus just to torture me?
I wouldn’t put it past her.
She grins as I near. “Looking a little dry, slut. Practice over so soon?”
By the mocking tone of her voice, I gather that she’s well aware I’ve been kicked off the team. Somehow, I’m sure she’s had a hand in it. Did she personally call every parent to let them know that I’d been accused of the fire? Probably.
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 his lips twitch with amusement. His grip is firm, though, and he’s angled his body so that he’s partially blocking me from Laurel.
“Move,” I mouth, but his eyes hood and he shakes his head.
“Not a chance,” he whispers.
“Get the hell out of here, Halloway,” Laurel shouts from behind him. “This isn’t any of your business.”
“I’m making it my business,” he replies easily, his gaze still on me. His fingers flex into my shoulder when I try to shrug him off. “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 Laurel, who’s still sputtering in indignation as her friends hiss insults at me.
“What are you doing?” I snap 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’m not some delicate flower. 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.