by Amelia Gates
“Who’s she?” the blonde asks, flipping her long, bleached hair over her shoulder.
Rhett follows her gaze, slowly, carefully, then freezes upon seeing me. His expression… darkens, and I’m suddenly gripped by what feels a lot like ice-cold fear. I can feel its frosted fingers clutching my throat, thrilled to choke me to death. But still, I don’t stop. I keep walking until I reach the Range Rover. By then, Kellan and Gage notice me, as well.
None of them look happy to see me.
What in the world is going on?
“No one,” Rhett says, then chugs a mouthful of whiskey. He pushes the bottle into the blonde’s small hands and opens the car door. The brunette moves back, almost excited by what she thinks is going to happen next—I’m not sure what that is, but, judging by the look on her face, it can’t be anything good.
“Long time no see,” I breathe, my voice gone, hidden somewhere far. Somewhere where I can’t find it. I keep talking, because Rhett is headed toward me, and he doesn’t look like the guy whose shoulder I cried on, back in summer camp. He looks more like the reason I’d need a shoulder to cry on, in the first place. “I didn’t know you guys were in Trinity, too! I mean, I just got transferred here. My parents sprung the divorce on me right after I got back from camp and…”
I lose my words, too, because he stops in front of me, much taller than I remember. Gage is out of the car now, eyeing me like I’m a bug he needs to squish with the heel of his boot. Kellan is the last one to leave the Range Rover. He grabs the whiskey bottle back from the blonde and raises his eyebrow at me. Suddenly, I’m small and defenseless, unable to move or speak. What the hell is happening?
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Rhett grunts out, his voice cold, cutting through me like an axe. I swallow back a knot, my palm sweaty and slipping from my backpack’s shoulder strap.
“I… I got transferred. What’s up with the—”
He grabs my backpack and pulls it wide open, with no regard for the zipper’s dwindling integrity. I’m stunned. Lots of questions, no answers, just dread piling up inside me, my instinct kicking and punching and desperately pointing at the door. Even now, I can’t move.
The girls are smiling. Oh, they’re enjoying this. Gage looks bored, checking his phone. Kellan hooks an arm around the blonde, pursing his lips as he gives me a disgusted sneer. I don’t recognize him anymore. Rhett starts digging through my bag.
“What are you…” My voice trails off.
I’m astonished by my own inability to react. It feels like I’m tied to the front of a runaway train, and we’re headed straight for a massive brick wall. I think I’m going to crash into it, and there’s no one out here to save me.
Rhett finds my tampons on the bottom, and he takes one out. My face is burning. If shame could kill, I’d be writhing and foaming at the mouth right now, giving my last breath. I hear laughter. The beauty queens from earlier are back outside, along with a dozen more seniors. It’s a “Holy shit!” moment, and I can’t even move a muscle to stop it from unfolding.
“Rhett, stop,” I whisper. “What are you doing?”
He flicks the tampon toward me. It hits my shoulder, then falls on the gravel, mute and as ashamed as I am. Rhett chuckles, picking out another one from the box. The blonde and the brunette are stifling their scratchy chortles. Gage smiles. Kellan glances to the side, noticing the beauty queens and giving them a nod of acknowledgment. This is amusing to them. My humiliation is today’s highlight, it seems, and I can’t bring myself to fucking stop this.
“Open wide,” Rhett says, and flicks another tampon at me. It hits me in the face. It doesn’t hurt. The gesture, however, opens a gaping wound inside me, and I’m transfixed. Is this really happening? Should I pinch myself out of what is clearly a horrible nightmare?
“What the shit, Rhett?!” I finally blurt out, surprised by my own tone. Where’d that come from? I need more! I need a friggin’ flamethrower to turn them all to ashes.
He’s relentless. Without a single emotion flickering across his sharp features, he turns my backpack upside down. Books, pens and notebooks fall out, making a mess at my feet. The sounds they make upon impact drill holes into my very soul. But it’s not enough. No, Rhett’s not done yet. He shoves the empty backpack into my chest with such strength that I’m pushed back a couple of feet.
The rest of my tampons are out on display for everyone to see. I’m speechless. Hurt. Their laughter stabs my eardrums, like forks on a blackboard. Rhett moves like a shadow. I don’t even notice it until he stands so close, that there’s hardly a breath of space between us.
“Run, Elly. Run fast and run far,” he says, anger burning in his emerald green eyes.
He walks away, motioning for Kellan and Gage to follow him. The girls go after them like overexcited Pomeranians - beauty queens beaming at their gladiators, fresh out of the arena, victorious in battle. The others are still laughing, trading murmurs and whispers about me. Some are brazen enough to point fingers in my direction.
I can still smell the whisky from Rhett. It lingered on his lips and tongue, the same lips and tongue he used to tell me off. The same lips and tongue that had told me I was different from all the girls he’d ever met, just a month ago.
My body is shaking, my limbs weak and gooey. But at least they’re gone. I’m left on my own in the parking lot, in front of the Range Rover, my stuff all over the ground. My tampons are glaring back at me. It’s not like I can hold it in… Why should I be ashamed? Why am I ashamed?
One thing is clear, though. As they all go in, and the first bell rings, I realize the hard, unpalatable truth. People are incredibly different, depending on their habitat. I met a big, sweet Kellan. We made love. A tall and charming Rhett. We talked for hours on end. A comforting and funny Gage. We quit smoking together, and we kicked ass in the canoe races across the lake. These versions I’ve just met are not The Hotshots I know. No. They’re assholes. Heartless bastards who get off on bullying me in the parking lot, on my very first day at this piece of shit school.
I should’ve listened to my instinct. I should’ve found the strength to walk away from them, not toward them. Only one question remains, now, and it’s not in my nature to leave it unanswered. What happened since summer camp? What made them turn against me like this?
What the hell did I ever do to them?
And how sweet will revenge taste?
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