Why did they take up my whole life? How could three kids turn an entire class against me? Why didn’t Ms. Kinsey, our teacher, say something? Maybe they were just that good. Maybe they knew when to say and do things that she wouldn’t notice. Surely if Ms. Kinsey had heard the things they’d said to me, she would’ve stepped in. Told the principal. Something.
I wasn’t stupid. I knew that if I went and told on them, the entire class would stand together with Christian, Alec, and Xander. It would be twenty-nine kids against one. Who were the teachers and school staff going to believe?
Not me. I knew they wouldn’t believe me, because no one cared about me. No one but Mom. Dad was…Dad was a fuckup, in Mom’s words. Dad had ruined everything. He was the reason we were now living in an apartment. A cheater. My mom had called him a cheater, right to his face, and I hated him for it.
A football landed a few feet to my right, and I shrunk into myself when Christian ran over to get it. I didn’t want to watch him approach, and I definitely want to see him glaring at me, but I did anyways.
“Reading at recess,” Christian spoke, shaking his head. “What a loser.” Behind him, Xander jogged over, stepping closer to me, a mean smirk on his face.
I hated that smirk. I also hated how his black hair looked blue in the sun, how his eyes were so dark they were almost soulless. Thinking Xander was soulless made me feel better, at least.
“Yeah,” Xander chuckled as Christian picked up the ball. “Who reads during recess?” Before I knew what he was doing, he yanked the book out of my lap and tossed it aside. It landed in the flowerbed, pages down on the mulch.
All I could think was: that’s a library book. I didn’t have the money to pay for it if it got damaged or wet. And it did just rain yesterday…
I went to get it, but I was too slow. Christian had his foot on the spine before I could retrieve it, and though I was on my knees trying to get the book, I slowly met his blue-eyed stare. “No one even knows you’re here,” Christian muttered, stepping harder on the book, the football tucked beneath his armpit. “Why don’t you just do us all a favor and kill yourself? At least then we wouldn’t have to look at your ugly face.”
Xander let out the meanest laughter I’d ever heard, and together they walked away, back to their game, leaving me on my hands and knees in the flowerbed.
The book was damaged, as I knew it would be. The inner pages were ripped and damp, destroyed just like I was.
Those memories felt like so long ago, yet they were so fresh they hurt me. I hated thinking back to that time, when all I wanted to do was give in and give up. When Xander’s brown eyes met mine, neither of us looked away. I said, “Maybe it’s a good thing we’ve changed.” What that meant was anyone’s guess.
I’d changed, but had he? Beneath his strange new exterior, was the old Xander just waiting, lying dormant, waiting to emerge and step foot into the light of day? I couldn’t be sure, but either way, it wouldn’t waver my resolve. I came to this school to destroy the Dick Squad, and destroy them I would.
Xander’s gaze finally broke away. “Maybe” was all he said.
We spent the remainder of class talking about what I wanted in my portfolio. He kept what was in his close to his chest, meaning he didn’t tell me squat. Just from the way he was talking about it, though, I could tell it meant something to him. That was something I could work with.
Maybe the key to Xander’s ruin was all in the pictures.
It was a few minutes before class let out, before the final bell of the day rang when I rested my cheek on my hand and stared at him. We both sat at the same table. The other students were slowly filing in and returning their cameras for the night, charging whatever ones needed to be charged. I wouldn’t say Xander and I were besties now, but we were a bit warmer to each other than we were an hour ago. Spending time with someone tended to do that.
It was only because the other kids were talkative and loud that I said quietly, “Can I ask you something?”
“You just did,” he muttered, and it took me a moment to realize he was joking. He wasn’t exactly smiling, but it was a joke. Beneath that sour personality, Xander Hill had a personality. It was just buried deep.
“Okay, then I’m going to ask you something else,” I told him. “Are you still friends with Christian?” I had an inkling what his answer would be, but I wanted to hear it for myself.
“Does it look like I’m still friends with Christian?” Xander looked at me, and in his dark eyes, I spotted a fire that was not there before. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he hated Christian almost as much as I did…but why? They were best friends before.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine.” Xander forced out a shrug. “I just…I haven’t talked to Christian or Alec in a long time. We aren’t from the same crowd anymore.” He tilted his head, his hair falling into his face, as if he was trying to hide from me, end this conversation without getting up and walking away.
I reached for him, setting a hand on his arm. A gentle touch, one I didn’t let linger too long. “I’m glad you’re you. I like this you better.” I withdrew my arm, watching his eyes on me, almost as if he was afraid to trust a single word I said. I might be trying to ruin him, but I meant what I said—I liked this Xander worlds better than the Xander of my childhood. This was a Xander I wouldn’t mind getting to know better, a Xander I wouldn’t mind spending more time with.
A Xander who I wondered what kissing him would be like.
Xander opened his mouth, about to say something, or maybe he was just shocked speechless, but the bell rang, cutting him off. I didn’t let him finish, knowing it was best for me to end this weird, touchy-feely moment right now. I hurriedly got up and left the classroom, leaving Xander at the table.
God, I was starting to view these guys as actual people and not just the subjects of my revenge. A terrible thing, really. Something that would only make me feel worse, when the shit actually hit the fan—and it was going to. Actual shit would hit the fucking fan.
Leah was probably right, though. I could make at least two of the Dick Squad fall in love with me. Christian…well, I’d have to go about him another way. Taking Alec from him wouldn’t be enough, and neither would breaking him and Jessie up.
I would have to get a bit more creative.
Chapter Eight
A week passed, and it was an awkward Saturday night dinner without my dad present; granted, it was only four, so it was an early dinner. Just me and Diane, spending some fantastic one on one time together. Dad wouldn’t get home until five. For some weird reason, she said she wanted to spend some time with me. She’d made pasta, and I mostly stuck the noodles with my fork, playing with my food. I didn’t want to eat too much, because I had some big plans tonight.
Jessie was throwing a party. Her parents were out of town, as clichéd as it was, and I’d decided tonight I’d make my move. On Alec, anyway. Christian would be there, and as long as he saw me and Alec together, I would accomplish all I’d set out to do for tonight. My nerves were getting to me, though.
“Your father will be home later. I thought we could have a movie night—” Diane began, her eyes on me. Did she really think I’d want to sit around and watch movies with her? I would much rather do literally anything else, including strip naked and walk through a River High basketball game, bearing all the scars on my body.
“Can’t,” I cut in. “I’m going to a party.”
“A party?” she echoed. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, sounding a bit bitchier than I intended to. Who the hell was Diane to tell me what was a good idea and what wasn’t?
Diane set down her fork, resting her hands on her lap. “I just mean that this school, your classmates, have hurt you before. I wouldn’t want them to hurt you again—” Ah, right. Because she knew everything there was to know about me and what happened six years ago. Her affair with my dad had continued
all throughout the divorce proceedings, so she was there for most of it.
She…she was the one who found me, actually. Those memories, while fuzzy, were still awful ones.
So cold. No one told me how cold it would feel. My skin, my body, even my breath—which was short and slow, labored. And God, no one told me how tired I would be. A fitting way to end it all, I supposed, since I’d spent the last two years constantly tired and alone.
I heard the sounds of knocking. Knocking on a door? My senses were slow. I couldn’t remember where I was. Was I in my bedroom? The bathroom? I had no idea, but I knew I didn’t plan it out. I didn’t want to plan it, because then I knew I’d chicken out. Spontaneous—for once in my life. I tried to be spontaneous, and all I’d gotten was cold. The only thing I knew was that I was at my dad’s house.
Funny, because it used to be my house, too. My mom’s house. Our house. I never knew, growing up, how badly time could warp things. Happy memories turned sour, birthdays and holidays long-lost traditions we could never get back. I’d lost so much; I was tired. I wanted it to be over with.
Was that so wrong?
The sounds of the doorknob jiggling and eventually giving way entered my ears. With blurry vision, I spotted the one person in the entire world I didn’t want to see, heard the one voice I never wanted to hear again.
“Elle!” Diane’s voice was frantic, and her face was blurred around the edges. I felt her touching me, putting pressure where there should be none, and I was too tired to fight her. Too tired to tell her that all of this was her fault.
It wasn’t, but I needed someone to blame that wasn’t myself.
“Elle, what did you do?” She was crying. Why? She didn’t care about me, didn’t love me. Diane was not my mother. She was just the young and pretty thing Dad had left Mom for. “Hold on, honey. Hold on.”
The last thing I remembered before meeting blackness was Diane telling me to stay awake.
I pushed the memory away, not wanting to relive it while sitting at the kitchen table with Diane. I smiled and shrugged. “I’ll be fine. I’m not the same little girl I was six years ago. I can handle these kids.” A muscle in my jaw tightened. “I’m stronger now.”
“Strength isn’t always facing down your demons,” Diane said something that made me freeze. Something that reminded me of things my mom used to say, before she…left. “Sometimes it’s about doing what’s harder. Moving on. Forgiving.”
I could not believe I was getting a speech from Diane. Who did she think she was? She wasn’t my mom. I didn’t even consider her my stepmom, even if legally, that’s what she was. She was nothing to me, no one, and she’d never be anything more, no matter what shit she tried to pull or wisdom she tried to instill in me.
Diane held my stare, her azure gaze confident, as if she had worlds of experience dealing with teens who’d tried to kill themselves in the past and were now set on revenge. “You can be strong and forgive, Elle. Forgive and forget.”
Forget all the things those little shits said to me? Everything they did to me? Forget the years of bullying while my home life took a drastic and unexpected turn for the worse, all because she couldn’t keep her legs shut? How dare she. How dare she even suggest doing that. Maybe a better person could forget and forgive, but I was not a better person.
I was the most spiteful bitch around. Spite. I should have it tattooed on me, somewhere. Spite and I were besties.
“When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it,” I told her, getting up. It was a good thing I’d never ask for it. As I was about to head upstairs, the doorbell rang, and I went to grab it, already knowing who it would be.
Georgia.
I was grinning, fighting the anger inside as I answered the door. Georgia wasn’t here to come to the party with me, but she was going to help me get ready. Over the past two weeks, we’d bonded pretty fast. I wouldn’t say she was Leah’s replacement, but it was nice to have someone to talk to during the school day, and someone to text at night. I spoke with Leah as often as I could, but most of our conversations revolved around the revenge plot. Every so often, it felt good to talk about useless shit.
Georgia stepped in the house, waving to Diane. “Hi,” she said meekly. “I’m Georgia.”
Diane was on her feet, moving to our side as she crossed her arms. “Are you going to the party too?” Such an inquisitive mind.
Shaking her head, Georgia’s red hair flew every which way. “No. I’m just here to help her get ready.” Georgia was quiet, but she had a way about her that made everyone like her. No one in school made fun of her for being silent in class or even sitting alone at lunch. She didn’t sit alone anymore, but that wasn’t the point.
Those kids were nicer to her than they ever were to me. I was a little jealous, but at the same time, I was happy for her. I wouldn’t want anyone to feel what I did in sixth grade.
Georgia and I headed upstairs to my room, and the instant Georgia stepped foot in my bedroom, she froze. Her eyes took in the pink walls, the mountain of old stuffed animals in front of my bed, and the general girlish nature of the entire place. “Wow. I didn’t think your room would look like this.” She was trying to hide her smile, and failing completely.
“It’s my room from when I was younger,” I said, shrugging. “Trust me, I wouldn’t paint it pink now.” There was nothing wrong with pink, but the past few years, I’d preferred stronger colors. Red, blue, black.
Georgia closed the door behind her, meandering to my bed as I stuck my head in my closet. Leah and I had chosen some party outfits, just in case, for situations exactly like this. I had to look drop dead gorgeous at this party, had to make every boy turn their head and stare at me, make them wish they knew me. And since it was Saturday, the basketball team would be there, too. Since Jessie was throwing the party and there wasn’t a game tonight, Christian literally had no reason not to be there.
I was counting on his presence, actually.
I grabbed the clothes and went to the bathroom to change. When I went back into my room, moving before my dresser to find some bracelets to put on my wrists, mostly to cover the scars there, Georgia could not take her eyes off me. I admit, that was the point.
“If you’re just going to this party to get Alec, you’ll definitely have him in the bag,” she mumbled.
I wore clean, dark jeans, the fabric so tight they looked like they were painted on. My shirt was a slimming violet color, cut just below my chest to show my flat stomach. It hung off my shoulders, revealing my collarbone and quite a bit of cleavage. Oh, I’d probably entice more than Alec with this outfit, and that was just fine. The more people that were talking about me, the more Christian would hear about me.
“He’s probably going to lose his mind after one look at you in that,” Georgia went on, nodding appreciatively. “I wish I could go and see it.”
“Why don’t you come?” It wasn’t like there were real invitations to this party. It was a show up whenever you want kind of thing. Theoretically, Georgia could come and be my second eyes and ears, but I wouldn’t put the pressure on her.
She shook her head. “Parties are not my thing. I don’t like all the people, the drinking, the crowded spaces and everyone making out.” She made a yuck sound.
As I started to curl my hair, I said, “I’m not really one for parties, either.” Okay, so maybe Georgia didn’t come here to help get me ready; more to keep me company while I prepped myself for what I had to do. “You know why I’m going.” I’d told Georgia the smooth, more laid-back version of my revenge scheme against the Dick Squad. She knew the general plan, and she was down for it. Mostly because, I think, she didn’t really have a friend before me.
“You could’ve fooled me,” she said, and I turned to face her, letting the most recent curl fall down my back as I pointed the curling iron at her.
“That’s the point. I have to look the part.” I went back to curling my hair. After that, it would be makeup, and a final once-over, and then I’d be done. I�
��d be ready.
“Oh, come on,” Georgia said with a tiny smile, “admit it. You like getting all primped and ready. And you’re kind of excited to—” I didn’t doubt she was going to bring up Alec, but at that moment, my dad entered the room, wearing his nerdy work clothes. Bright colors, button-down shirt with a tie that had teeth on it.
I know. Hideously ugly.
“I heard someone’s going to a party tonight,” Dad spoke, grinning. His brown hair was short, kind of greasy after a day’s work. He was only a few inches taller than me, a short guy, thin, too. He looked like the typical geeky dad, not at all like the cheating son of a bitch he really was.
“Yep,” I said, sounding bored. I noticed him checking my outfit, and I waited.
I waited for him to mention it, to tell me to change, but he must’ve known better, for all he said was “I hope you two have fun.”
I wasn’t about to correct him, tell him that Georgia wasn’t going, so I simply nodded and watched as he left my room, waiting until I heard his footsteps down the stairs before I carried on with my hair.
“Your dad seems nice,” Georgia muttered. “For a cheater.” Okay, so I may have told her a bit about my past, too. What could I say? Sometimes I couldn’t take the silent lunches. I only chuckled at her comment.
Once my hair was done, I ran my fingers through the brown curls, making their curls looser and wavier. Less like artificial curls and more like natural ones. Next was my makeup—I did a simple smoky eye and bright red lipstick that I knew for a fact would stick on, even if my lips happened to brush against someone else’s.
“Well?” I asked when I was done, spinning in a full circle as if I were in a fashion show. “How do I look?”
“Hot,” Georgia said with a nod. “Sexy. Alec is going to die when he sees you.”
Spite: A Bully Reverse Harem Page 6
