“Then, Monday, we’ll get started on our first unit. Swimming,” she adds cheerfully, pushing her cropped hair behind both ears.
A number of gripes and groans hit the air, likely because my classmates are dreading having to mess up their hair and makeup every day, but my dread stems from something else.
Like, the fact that I can’t freakin’ swim.
More than a decade ago, on an impromptu trip after he and Mom got into a bad fight, my dad whisked me and Hunter away to a friend’s lake house for the weekend. As usual, he was passed out drunk on the couch by eight P.M., letting the TV watch him. Hunter and me, left to our own devices and very little to do, decided to take the small rowboat tied to the dock out on the water.
At ages six and nine.
Long story short, tipping out of a boat in the dead of night when you can’t even tread water is enough to leave a kid scarred. Thankfully, Hunter managed to pull me out and get me back to the dock, but the damage was done. To this day, I don’t even entertain the idea of getting into water deeper than my waist.
Until now, I guess.
“Head upstairs and get a few laps in. No goal other than to keep running,” Mrs. C. concludes before grabbing a clipboard from the front row.
I stand, unable to help glancing at the door one last time, looking for Lexi.
Guess I’m on my own for real now.
One step into my descent and a bony shoulder slams mine. I peer up to find none other than Parker glaring back as she trudges down the steps. There’s fire in her eyes when I open my mouth to scream at her.
“What the hell?”
“Better watch your step, Little Manson,” she warns in the bitchiest of toxic tones.
I barely have a chance to recover from the first shock when another heavy blow hits my back. This time, it’s more than just a shoulder check. The chick full-on shoves me. So hard I nearly lose my footing and do a nosedive down ten rows of seating.
“Whoops. Clumsy me,” she says with a grin—Ariana, one of Parker’s minions. She had likely acted on Queen Bitch’s command.
At first, my focus is on the two who just assaulted me, but then it shifts to the one who’s really to blame—West.
Surprise, surprise … he’s watching with both brothers, getting yet another laugh at my expense today. He spots me and barely even acknowledges my existence, storming down the bleachers two at a time. I’m seething under the suddenly watchful gaze of Mrs. C., so I keep my cool, staring as their crew heads up to the track together, still laughing at my near-death experience.
I take my time going up, but when I finally reach the second level, I quickly blend into the crowd. Weaving my way through the moving ocean of bodies, I focus on the ones who’ve targeted me for no other reason than because they can. In their eyes I’m weak, which gives them a pass to push me around without consequence.
Only, I refuse to let it go down like that.
I weed out Parker with her prissy little run, and then I pick up speed. They don’t even realize I’ve gained on them, and they won’t until it’s too late.
Timing the maneuver perfectly, I stick my foot forward and hook it over the top of Parker’s. She struggles to steady herself, stumbling awkwardly while I watch the scene unfold. I can’t fight a smile, especially when she finally goes down.
Hard.
A blood-curdling scream rings out into the open space and I back into the crowd. Parker clutches her tiny ankle, and that perfectly tanned face of hers is suddenly red as a beet.
“Step aside,” Mrs. C. calls out, pushing through the tight circle that’s formed on the track. She’s barely even stepped inside it when Parker snitches.
“She did it!” Parker points. “She tripped me on purpose!”
I put on my best ‘Who me?’ face, and even look around as if to imply that she must be talking about someone else.
“Why would I do something like that?” The words leave my mouth sounding so believable, proving that my acting chops are much better than I realized.
“Don’t even try it, bitch,” Parker hisses, beginning to sweat a bit.
I’m guessing the pain is starting to get to her. While Mrs. C’s back is turned, I don’t hide my smirk. I want them to see, want them to know I’m not afraid to strike back. Their whole crew.
My gaze flickers up toward West as he stares me down, both arms locked across his chest like he wishes he could hurt me.
Sorry, dick. Ain’t happening.
“I’m head of the dance squad! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Parker cries out. I mean, legit, cries out.
So dramatic.
“Relax,” Mrs. C. interjects. “We’ll get you down to the nurses office so they can take a look at you. I’m sure it’s not as serious as you think.”
Mrs. C’s gaze shifts to me, but I’ve long-since replaced my snarky expression with one of concern.
“In the meantime, you and I are gonna have a little chat,” she concludes. “In my office. Now.”
The crowd quickly disperses when it’s clear there won’t be much drama to come of this. Well, none they’re aware of, anyway. In fact, they completely miss that West hasn’t moved a muscle since I injured his little girlfriend. It isn’t until Sterling helps Parker to her feet and she loops one arm around his neck and the other around West’s that he even blinks.
It’s impossible to fight the smile on my face now. Told his ass not to mess with me.
“You’re here on scholarship, is that correct?” Mrs. C. rocks back in her seat when asking. I can’t help but wonder what that has to do with anything.
“Yes, ma’am,” I answer, knowing I’m expected to be on my best behavior. My stupid temper got me into this, now I need to turn up
