The pizza joint is a popular hangout. The last time I was here, Hayden convinced me to kiss him to make Colt jealous, which ended in a fight between Colt and I in the bathroom. Even now, I don’t know if what we were doing truly made him jealous, but the petty, mean side of me sure hopes so.
Of course, it all has a new meaning with Portia in the mix. Maybe it wasn’t about me but her. Perhaps this is all a sick game to see who emerges the winner.
When we arrive, I spy Sarah Bitch Fremont sitting at a table with North students, who accepted her into their fold easily enough, I note with a sour expression. I barely got the assholes to be nice to me, and she’s the one who set the rich bitch precedent. Hardly seems fair.
Of course, Tiffany Watkins, my arch-nemesis and one time whatever of Colt’s is sitting with her. That bitch helped Ben corner me in the bathroom at North, where he planned to force me to suck him off while she watched. She’s definitely on my shit list.
Sarah’s eyes raise to mine as I enter, looking me over avidly. She got what she wanted, Colt on her arm, or at least she did. I’ve no clue if they’re together now. They were at prom together, but Colt’s now stalking me at South, so who knows? He hasn’t shown much interest in her since prom, but he likes games. Maybe him harassing me is to get at her. What a mindfuck.
Unfortunately for her, he discards girls like a used tissue, it’s entirely likely he was using her to get to me, and now she’s not useful anymore.
I can’t feel any pity. She took great pleasure in humiliating me in front of a group of peers at Dirk’s house, rubbing the salt of my pain in my fresh wounds. That day will forever be emblazoned on my brain.
It’s the day Colt celebrated his eighteenth birthday, and the last time he looked at me with soft eyes, as though even though he denied it, he might actually care for me. It was the best day and the worst day because right after, we confronted his father, and Colt emerged a shell of the person he was before.
In my weaker moments, I wonder if that's not the reason he took me to Dirk’s party and paraded Sarah in front of me. Maybe it was easier to push me away than be the person who's vulnerable in the face of the emotion he believes to be the worst of things - love.
Foolish. Because despite how Colt might have felt, he didn’t have to be so cruel, and it’s a mark of his personality that he couldn’t just let me down easy. No, he had to go out with a fucking bang.
I return Sarah’s stare with my own, arching a brow when she smiles, her mouth curling into a satisfied grin. Nothing good can come from such a look, but I refuse to let her see my unease. Giving her my own feral grin, which ratchets down her pleasure a notch, I join Nate at the table with his friends, and we order drinks and food.
I’m just settling in and starting to enjoy myself when the door bursts open, and Colt emerges, with Dirk and George in tow. Since I’ve no clue what game he’s playing now, I’m wary when he completely ignores Sarah and makes a beeline for where I’m sitting, pulling out a chair across from me and making himself at home.
I don’t want to look at him. I’m afraid to see whatever is behind his eyes. We haven’t spoken beyond a few heated conversations I’ve jumped out of before they can turn serious. Thankfully, we’re not alone, but I have few choices in avoiding him, so I resolve to ignore him for now.
Dirk and George follow suit, Dirk giving me a saucy wink as he does. Arching a brow, I give him a small smile, but despite playing nice to get the dirt on my stalker, the dick’s still on my shit list for his affiliation with Colt.
George gives me a sheepish grin, his face, hardened by life, folding into gentle lines. I don’t know why, but I soften because of all of them, I think George is the only one who didn’t enjoy what they did, nor did he truly participate.
Regardless, I got my revenge when I pissed on the football players by presenting a case study on domestic violence and its relation to football. Of course, no one knew it was about my own family until they confronted me in the parking lot, and I screamed it to the rafters, or sky as it were.
“Hey George,” I say pleasantly, to which he beams, his anxiety fading, I assume in direct relation to his disappearing act the other night.
Colt glares at me with flared nostrils when I do, but I ignore him, noting Nate's stiff posture beside me. His friends are all quiet, staring between Colt, his entourage, and me, unsure how to act in the face of their audacity.
And now that I know there’s history between the two, the awkward silence feels filled with meaning I’ve yet to understand.
“Hey now, hurt my feelings,” Dirk says playfully, and I roll my eyes.
“Dirk,” I say grudgingly, giving him an approximation of a smile and chin dip, his amused expression leading me to believe it's probably ghastly.
I’m still disappointed that my big reveal about Colt’s parents' sordid life was not a surprise, either that or his friends got over it quickly. Although I’ve seen a few distasteful glances sent his way, I’ve not been able to determine how some of the others reacted. South students haven’t said much, but then Colt wasn’t their esteemed leader preaching about privilege.
“Enough,”
