by Mae Doyle
“No!” She shrieks and stands up, running to me and the painting, but I’ve already upended the jar and there are only a few drops dripping out now. “What did you do?” She turns to me, blind with rage, and hits me, her fists making dull sounds as they slam into my chest. “I begged, you asshole!”
“Not fast enough, Nora.” Calmly I step out of the way, making sure that my feet don’t end up in the growing puddle of turpentine. That’s the last thing that I want to have on my bare skin. It’s probably going to eat through the finish on the floor and then my mom really will kill Nora. “Next time I tell you to beg, make sure that you’re a little faster about it, okay? I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
“I hate you.” Her voice is dark and full of malice. The oils from her paint drip off of the canvas and onto the floor, sad puddles of color that look nothing like her painting. They swirl together as I watch, muddying and losing their vibrant shades. It would be sad if it weren’t just so damn fitting.
“Hate me all you want, but you better clean up that mess, Nora. I had no idea that you were this clumsy.” I yank my towel from my waist and toss it to her. In her surprise, she reaches out and catches it. “You can use that, if you’d like. Just make sure you get this cleaned up before dinner.”
I’m halfway to the door of her room, my cock hard and throbbing for her when she calls after me. “Fuck you, Teague. I wish you were dead.”
Turning, I rest one hand on her doorframe, pinning her in place with my stare. “You’re not the only one, Nora. See you for dinner.” Tears are leaking from her eyes, and I know that I should feel bad about what I’ve done, but I don’t.
Nora needs to be brought down a few notches. She’s not as great as she thinks she is.
She had my kindness once and threw it back in my face, so she won’t get that again. She wants to act all high and mighty and pretend like she’s so tough and brave? That’s fine, but what she experienced before was nothing compared to the monster she just awakened.
Chapter 2
Nora
I know that I should feel better about myself now that I actually look the part of Kennedy Academy student, but for some reason, my new clothes make me feel like I stand out even more – and not in a good way. The only concession that Mrs. Ward was willing to make is that my new tops and sneakers would be black.
All of the new clothes she bought me are skintight and skim my curves, showing off everything I have. Or don’t have. One thing that makes me stick out here is that I’m definitely au natural while a lot of the girls have already had work done. Good thing I’m not trying to compete, or I’d be feeling a little sorry for myself.
Teague didn’t speak to me on the ride to school this morning, which was honestly fine with me. I don’t have anything to say to him after he ruined my painting. All I know is that now I’m going to do everything I possibly can to make his life as much of a living hell as he has made mine.
The only problem is that my body doesn’t seem to agree with my heart. It’s hard to fight against the fact that whenever I’m in a close space with him I just want to reach out and touch him. Whenever I close my eyes at night I feel his hands on me. It’s maddening, especially when I know that he’s only a few feet down the hall. Especially when I know that I should hate him more than I do.
He darted off to the locker room to meet up with Robby as soon as we got to school, leaving me standing in the front of the building by myself. I’ve curled my hair and I’m wearing tight skinny jeans that hug my ass, so I know that I’m going to attract some extra attention this morning. Sighing, I grab the front double doors and throw them open, ready to make my entrance.
It’s hard to believe that just over a week ago I came into this hall and my face was plastered on the walls. Now there’s just as many students here, and they all turn when I walk in, but nobody laughs. Hell, nobody even does so much as breathe.
My sneakers are silent as I walk in, but nobody seems to notice that I’m not in heels. Girls I’ve never talked to stare at me from their lockers while their boyfriends ogle me. It would feel good if I wasn’t already so nervous about how everyone here hates me. Ignoring the looks I’m getting, I walk to my locker, spin the lock, and throw it open.
“Where’d you get the clothes?” Bethany strolls up to me and leans against the locker wall, slamming my door shut. I catch it at the last second and scowl at her. “You’ve traded in the homeless look for the whore, but let me tell you, it’s a definite improvement.”
“You know, thanks. I just channeled what I thought you would wear but then toned it down so I didn’t get picked up for being a hooker.” Grabbing my math book, I slam the locker shut and stare at her.
She doesn’t do so much as flinch, even though I’m just inches from her face. Bethany is an unbelievable bitch and the one who printed off my puking posters and t-shirts, and I don’t trust her as far as I could throw her. Which, given the fact that she looks like the walking poster child for an eating disorder, is probably pretty far.
“You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if guys actually started paying attention to you, would you?” She sneers at me, letting her eyes rake down my body. “But don’t worry, no matter how good you think you look, you’re still just going to be the girl who pukes in trash cans.”
“Better than the girl who pukes up all of her meals.” I know that I’m playing with fire, but I spin away from her and sashay down the hall. The bell’s going to ring soon and there’s no way that I’m going to be caught outside of the class when it does. I’m not thrilled about having classes with Teague later in the day, but at least I don’t have to deal with him just yet. And besides that, I have a few things planned for him.
Don’t want him to think that I forgive him for ruining my painting, or for making me beg. I swear, I can still feel the imprint of the wood floors in my knees. I’ve never been on my knees for anyone before and I never will again. I’ll never forgive him, no matter how long I live or how much he begs me.
He humiliated me in my room on Friday. I got on my knees for him to try to save my art, and that’s the last time I’ll ever look at him from that position. He may think that he can get people to do anything that he wants them to, but he’s pushed me too far.
***
I’m pretty sure that Teague is going to be looking for me at lunch today, which is exactly why I’m not heading out into the quad right away. Just because I’ve gone out there every day right away when the bell rings doesn’t mean that I’m going to keep doing the same thing. If I want to survive the rest of this year then I need to shake things up a bit.
In fact, I have a little detour to make on the way to lunch. By dragging my feet when class gets out, I manage to be the last person in the hall on the way to lunch. Teague’s locker isn’t near mine, but I know exactly which one it is.
Robby Yost drew a huge cock on it when Teague got kicked off of the football team and even though the janitor has tried his best to scrub it off, he still hasn’t been able to remove it. He would have been able to if he’d used turpentine, which is exactly what I’m clutching in the jar I’m carrying down the hall.
Not that I’m going to remove his cock, no matter how appealing that sounds. No, I’m going to do to him what he did to me. Turpentine is great for painting with oils, but it’s hell on paper and books, and the lockers at Kennedy Academy have just enough room in the upper vents for me to carefully pour this entire jar onto his things. He’ll have quite the unpleasant and smelly surprise waiting for him when he comes back from lunch.
Carefully so I don’t accidentally spill the jar and remove his giant cock, I pour the filthy turpentine into the top of the locker. It takes a moment, and the smell is strong enough when I’m done that you can smell it from twenty feet away. I giggle to myself, then clamp a hand over my mouth.
This is the first time I’ve felt happy in over a week. Teague and Bethany may think that they’re free to torment me, but I’m finally making a stand for myself. And
it just so happens that I have unlimited access to as much used and dirty turpentine as I want.
Teague will know right away that it was me who did this, but I don’t care. He’s already taken my virginity and held it over my head, so who gives a shit what else he does? It’s not like he can make my life any more miserable, right?
Even though I know that yes, he can make my life more miserable, I feel really good about taking a stand. So good, in fact, that I want to go out to lunch and see him. Not that I want to talk to him, but I’d like to keep an eye on him and follow him back inside when he gets his stuff from his locker. The only thing that would make this better is if his football gear was still stored inside.
Not that I could smell his used gear over the odor of the turpentine. The whole hall smells like used turpentine. Teague is gonna be pissed and I can’t wait to see how he handles the fact that I’m not going to lay down and take it from him any longer.
Strolling through the hall, I throw open the door to the quad. Mrs. Ward finally acquiesced to me making and packing my own lunch every morning. I like it because I feel like it gives me some control over the day and I don’t have to go into the cafeteria if I don’t want to.
Just like I thought, Teague is looking for me. His eyes on lock on mine when I walk out of the door and he immediately stalks over to me, looking pissed. “Where have you been? Lunch started a while ago.”
Ignoring him, I find a sunny patch of grass and sit down. “Why are you so worried about me, Teague? Afraid that someone will catch me alone in the woods?”
His face flushes and he drops to his knees next to me. “No, I just want to make sure that you’re not trying anything stupid. New look, new attitude. It’s like I don’t know you, Nora, and I don’t like it.”
I take a huge bite of my sandwich and chew it before answering. Teague thinks that he doesn’t know me? Well, that’s great, because I’ve decided to be someone new. Someone he won’t expect. “Well, once you get attacked in the woods let’s see – three times, that’s right – you start to have a different outlook on life.”
“And what outlook is that?”
“That you hate the person who keeps fucking with you.” I stare at him, trying to keep my eyes on his. His dark eyes have flecks of gold in a ring around the iris. They’re gorgeous. I’d love to paint them, but that would mean having to be close to him for an extended period of time, staring into his eyes.
I honestly don’t know that I could handle that without going crazy.
Or without doing something like kissing him.
“What smells like shit?” Robby walks up to us, staring down at me, his nose wrinkled. As surreptitiously as possible I lift my hands to my face and give them a sniff. Yep. I reek of turpentine. Teague probably didn’t notice because he was so caught up on tormenting me.
So much for being the mighty hunter. Can’t even smell when is prey has been up to something.
“Must be Teague. I didn’t smell anything before he came over.” Shrugging, I lift my water bottle and am about to take a sip when Teague knocks it out of my hands. “Hey! Don’t be a dick!” It splashes down my shirt and I move to brush it off, but he’s too fast for me.
Grabbing my wrist, he squeezes it hard enough for me to feel the bones shift under my skin. I cry out and try to jerk back, but he brings my hand up to his nose and takes a huge sniff.
When his eyes widen in understanding, I know that I’m screwed. “Why do you smell like turpentine, Nora?” His voice is low and measured, but I can tell that a storm is brewing. There’s an undercurrent of danger in his voice and it makes me shiver.
He may seem calm now but there’s no way that I’m going to get out of this without him exploding.
“Must have had an accident in art.” Shrugging, I try to pull my hand back, but he only grips my wrist tighter. “Let me go, Teague. Your mother thinks that I need to put on weight and I can’t do that if I don’t eat something.”
His eyes slide over my body, coming to rest on my tits. “You look fine. Now, tell me, what did you do?”
My heart is booming in my chest, knocking out a staccato beat that I’m sure everyone around us can hear. Taking a deep breath, I try to calm it and to keep my face from flushing, but I can feel it starting to burn hot.
I made the concession of dressing more to fit in, but that doesn’t mean that I want to wear all of the makeup that the other girls do. There’s no foundation, no concealer, nothing on my face to hide how bright red I’m getting.
“I’m just looking out for myself, thank you very much.” Yanking, I manage to free my wrist from his grip. It hurts, but I’m not going to give him the pleasure of rubbing it to take away some of the soreness. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a lunch to finish. See you in class.”
He grunts and stands up, crossing his arms to look down at me. Ignoring him, I put my water bottle with what’s left of my drink on the ground next to me.
Teague turns to walk away, but then turns back, kicking my water bottle so hard that it spins away from me and empties before I can reach in. “Fine, Nora, but when I find out what you did, you better be prepared to answer for it, you understand?”
Oh, I understand. I understand perfectly well. I backed an injured animal into a corner and he’s not going to go down without a fight. But the thing that Teague needs to understand is that I’m tired of being pushed around.
He wants a fight? I’ll give him one. My claws are finally out.
Teague
Nora’s playing her cards close to her chest today. While last week I would have liked to have a little fight in her when she was facing off with Bethany, now her ire is directed at me, and I’m seeing just how far she’s willing to go.
There’s still plenty of time left in lunch, but students are already filling the hallways, getting ready to head back to class. Robby and I wind our way through them to my locker, but before I can even turn the corner to it, a terrible smell wafts through the air and hits us both in the face.
It’s thick. So thick, in fact, that it’s that cliché smell people say they could cut with a knife. We immediately clamp our hands over our noses and mouths, our eyes watering. He looks at me, a frown furrowing his forehead. Fucking Robby has no idea what just happened, but I recognize that smell.
Nora’s room reeked of it all weekend since I paid her a little visit and fixed her painting for her. Someone spilled turpentine, and a lot of it, from the smell.
No, not someone. It was Nora, I’m sure of it. That’s why her hands smelled so terrible at lunch. My stomach twists. Deep in my bones I know that she’s the one that caused this smell, and the fact that it’s so strong on the hall where I have my locker? Not a good sign.
“Everyone move aside!” Mr. Colter pushes through the crowd of students, a black bandana held up to his nose so that he can breathe. “Let me see what happened here!”
I can tell you what happened. Nora found her spine, that’s what. I don’t want to walk to my locker, but I know that that’s exactly where he will be heading, so I might as well meet him there. Leaving Robby behind, I follow the path that he breaks, making a beeline for the worst of my smell.
“Whose locker is this?” Mr. Colter hits my locker with his fist, causing it to rattle and bang. Everyone around him takes a step back, trying to shrink out of the way so that he can’t see them, but I step forward. There’s no hiding that it’s my locker – not for long, anyway. His eyes fall on me and light up. “Mr. Ward. How in the world did I know that you would somehow be involved? Open it.”
Stepping out of the way, he gestures at my locker. This close to it, the smell is almost unbearable. Turpentine leaks out of my locker and is puddling on the floor. I can’t even imagine what the inside is going to look like. It was pretty incredible how fast the turpentine ruined her painting, so I already know that it’s strong.
Ignoring the whispering behind me, I turn to my locker, holding my breath before I start to twist the dial on the lock. It opens quickly and
when I swing the door out, another rush of turpentine splashes onto the floor. Mr. Colter and I both immediately take a step back as the puddle grows larger.
My locker is a mess. Turpentine drips down the sides and the shelves. All of my books and papers are completely coated and have turned into wet blobs of pulp. But worst of all is that my football letter jacket was thrown haphazardly into the bottom of the locker and has soaked up most of the turpentine.
I stare at it, feeling despair rise in my chest. My mom threw away the towel that Nora used to clean up the spill in her room, and that only had a tiny bit of the liquid on it. I can only imagine that there’s no way to save my jacket. Not now, not when it’s literally dripping turpentine.
Without thinking, I lean down, reaching for it. I just have to see how bad the damage is, but Mr. Colter grabs me by the arm and yanks me back. I stumble, then look at him, my face flaring.
“My jacket!” I don’t know who I’m yelling to. Everyone can see that she’s ruined my jacket. Quickly, I scan the crowd, but I don’t see her watching. If she’s smart, she’ll make herself scarce.
“My locker. Who did you piss off, Mr. Ward?” The principal fixes his eyes on mine, locking me in place. I open my mouth to answer, but then I snap it shut.
If I tell him that this was Nora then I know that he’ll want to get involved and be the one to handle the problem with her, and that simply won’t do. I don’t want him to know that she’s the reason my letter jacket is ruined. He’ll be too easy on her, and I can’t let that happen.
“No idea. Looks like someone on the team isn’t happy that I’m not playing.” It’s my best attempt to throw this back in his face, but he doesn’t even look fazed.
“I doubt that. Did you not see how well they did last week after you went home? Or was your team afraid to tell you that they really don’t need you around in order to win?” His face is twisted into a sneer and I almost pull back my fist to hit him, but I still myself.
