My heart breaks for him. This sweet boy who has been nothing but kind to me, who has picked me up and dropped me off whenever I’ve asked but is so painfully shy he can’t even string a full sentence together while looking me in the eye. This boy who has never said a bad word about anybody and would help you out any way he can. This boy who is so smart he’s sitting mostly senior classes and will certainly graduate a year early. This boy whose face is blushed bright red from humiliation, blending in with the acne he has there and fading into his carrot-top hair.
It’s not good enough. It’s just not good enough.
My attention turns to the boys who are throwing the food at him and hurling insults his way, laughing their heads off because they’ve managed to find someone more vulnerable than them and are too stupid to be able to hold a decent entertaining conversation between themselves without having to berate and humiliate someone else. They obviously thought Paul was an easy target because he’s sat on his own today. They’re younger than us, that much is obvious, and they’re not the group Ethan hangs out with and eats lunch with, which is somewhat of a relief. I might have preconceived opinions about Ethan’s friends, but from what I’ve seen, they’d never behave like this even if they are jocks themselves. No, these guys are younger and too stupid to realise how shitty their behaviour looks. I recognise one of them, the loudest one of all who is high-fiving the rest when he manages to hit Paul. I’ve seen him watching me from time to time, but the rest of them I don’t remember seeing. They look to be freshmen or maybe sophomores, and their varsity jackets tell me they’re on one of the sports teams.
“Oh no,” Pippa whispers just as one of the little assholes throws a half-empty cup in Paul’s direction and it splashes by his feet, coating the bottom of his jeans. Paul doesn’t even glance down at it. He just carries on eating, his face burning with embarrassment. Something tells me he knows this is the best thing for him to do, to just ignore it and not give them a reaction. He’s so painfully shy, he probably wouldn’t have a clue what to say to these guys, and it would only fuel his humiliation. One of the boys, probably the biggest one there and who I’ve seen hanging around Ethan from time to time, raises his hand, and I just know something is going to go flying Paul’s way. Then Finn appears out of nowhere, Matty at his side, and grips his arm, stopping him from throwing it. They’re making that much of a scene that it’s even drawn the attention of Finn’s table.
The group all turn to Finn, who has a scowl on his face and is clearly telling them they’re being dickheads or something. The boys just laugh, playing it off, but their expressions tell me they won’t do it again. They’re not going to go against what Finn says; they have too much respect for him. My eyes find Paul again, and I see him reach out and brush something brown and sloppy off his shoulder. It just rubs further into the material of his shirt, and I realise Finn stopping them isn’t enough. It isn’t enough to stop them from doing it again, and it isn’t enough for Paul, who’s just gone through this humiliation.
I turn to Pippa. “Is it true?” I ask.
She scrunches up her nose in confusion, her eyes leaving Paul and coming back to me. “Is what true?”
“What Rachel said yesterday.”
She pales slightly as she remembers her rant. “Which part?”
I nod towards the guys who are still listening to whatever it is Finn and Matty are saying. “That they think I’m hot. That they want me.”
Her eyes widen slightly, unsure where I’m going with this, but she nods instantly. “Yeah,” she says quietly. “They all want you.”
I nod, my eyes taking the boys in, all eight of them. Some of them are better looking than the others, all seemingly pretty popular. “Good,” I tell her. I drop my bag from my shoulder and press it into her arms as I walk past. “Hold this for me.”
I weave my way through the tables, heading to Paul at the back, my eyes fixed on him and his hunched-over form. I’m so angry with these dickheads that I could spit fire, and I’m not walking away from them until they feel at least a fraction of the humiliation he’s just felt.
Matty looks up as I approach. “Hey, Kavanagh,” he says in greeting, and Finn’s eyes come up to find mine. I haven’t forgotten how irritated he was with me yesterday after I got back from my evening with Marcus, how he showed just how unimpressed he is with me yet again, and I haven’t forgotten that he was seconds away from kissing Lila when I walked in on him. He has no right to judge me. I brush past him and grab the chair next to Paul, turning it so it’s facing them with my back to the table. I slide onto the chair, crossing my legs out in front of me.
I let my eyes linger on them for a minute whilst I feel Finn’s gaze boring into me. My eyes flit over the younger guys, their similar haircuts and varsity-jacket-and-jeans uniform. They’re pretty much replicas of each other, and it makes me even more angry. How dare they humiliate someone as kind and unique as Paul. So what if he doesn’t dress like them and act like them? Who actually cares?
I tilt my head to the side, well aware I have their attention. “Hey guys, I’m Izzy Kavanagh.”
The biggest one, the one who clearly thinks he’s a badass and was the one leading the bullying, nods at me. “Yeah, um, we know. We’re on the team with your brother. I’m Will Greene.”
I nod and flash him my widest smile, all the time fighting the urge to spit on the heinous bully. I reach up and pull my hair out of its high ponytail, letting it fall down my back and running my hands through it, making eye contact the way the Kirsten always did when she was trying to capture a boy’s attention. It’s massively extra but seems to be working, all eight of them staring straight at me, unsure what to say, but I can see a couple of swallowed gulps and I have to take it that Rachel was right and some of these guys do think I’m good-looking; I hope so. I can still feel Finn’s gaze on me, but I don’t glance at him. If I do, I might chicken out, and this is something I’m determined to do.
I glance around briefly, shifting in closer to Paul, who still hasn’t looked at me, and although a couple of the nearby tables are looking over here, it’s not enough. If I want this to be effective, I need to have as many eyes on me as possible. I grab my hair, pull it up off my neck, and use my hand to fan myself.
“It’s hot in here, huh?” I ask. It’s not; the cafeteria is one of the few places in this school that is fully air-conditioned.
Will looks confused for a second. “Um, I guess,” he mutters like the idiot he is, but I’m barely listening. I stand up and, in one swift movement, unzip the hoodie I’m wearing and pull it off, revealing the crop top I’m wearing underneath. There’s stunned silence for a minute, and I’m not exactly surprised—it’s seriously revealing. I threw it on this morning when looking for clean underwear, knowing I’d be wearing a hoodie all day so no one would ever see it, but it’s definitely being useful right now. In truth, it’s only one step up from a bralette. The lace bottom is only a couple of inches longer than your standard bra, and my boobs (which seem to be getting bigger) are definitely on display, as is my stomach. It’s not too dissimilar to the crop tops I’ve seen Evie and Lila wear around campus, but it’s definitely the most skin I’ve ever displayed at school. I’m not usually one for flashing the flesh, but I’ve got my mum’s genes and I know I look good as my jeans sit low on my hips and my hair falls down my back.
A wolf whistle rips out from somewhere across the cafeteria. Good, now I’ve got their attention. Will’s mouth is gaping open in front of me and the rest of them are all staring at me, their eyes fixed on my body. Matty starts to laugh loudly. “Ethan is going to kill you.”
I shrug as my eyes slide to Finn. His jaw is clenched and his eyes are still boring into me. He’s pissed, I can tell, and I’d rather not think about why that would be. I throw my hoodie at him. “Hold this for me, would ya, Finn?” He snatches it out of the air and his eyes narrow. He knows something is going on as I sit back down.
“I’m Ethan’s sister. You know Ethan, right?”
I smile, a fake expression that hides how I’m actually feeling.
“So,” I say, looking around at the jocks, “you guys also know my friend Paul?”
They look surprised at the way I’ve changed the conversation. “Uh, yeah,” one of them mutters awkwardly. “We were just talking to him.”
“Oh, is that what talking looks like?”
A kid at the back with dark brown hair at least manages to look embarrassed. “We were just messing around.”
“Yeah,” Will agrees, smiling sheepishly. “We go way back, right, Paul?”
Paul shifts at my side for the first time, and he casts a glance back towards them before looking at me. He shrugs helplessly. “Yeah, sure.”
It’s not good enough, not good enough at all that these little fuckers have made him feel so low and now he’s being pushed into defending them.
Another one chimes in. “Yeah, just having a little fun. We’ve known Paul for years.”
“Yeah, we were just joking,” another one states.
I nod my head. “Yeah,” I say sharply, taking in their guilty faces. “It looked really fun from where I was standing.”
A couple of them have the good grace to look away, but I’m not done yet. Not even close. I look at the floor and see there’s an empty carton close to my leg. I kick it over to them, praying Rachel was right that I do hold some sort of power here, whether it be because of my looks, because of Ethan, or because of my family name. I take the gamble. I make sure my voice is loud and clear so everyone in the silence around us can hear me. “You should probably pick your crap up.”
Their jaws drop open as I lean back with my elbows resting on the table behind me, my eyes challenging them to defy me. A crimson blush crosses over most of their cheeks as they realise what I’m asking them to do, and I’m almost waiting for one of them to tell me to get lost, but they don’t. They stare at me in shock, not one of them moving as they take in what I’ve asked them to do—what I’ve asked them to do in front of half of the student body.
I see a slight movement as Finn steps just ever so slightly closer to them, and Matty crosses his arms, grinning from ear to ear as he looks down at them. I smirk, because they’re backing me up. I glance around the room, and every head in the place is staring this way, waiting to see what’s going to happen.
A movement catches my eye and I turn to see Ethan making his way through, his eyes taking in the scene in front of him, and when his gaze finds the floor and all the crap lying there, the food splattered on Paul’s clothes, I know he understands. He stops at the edge of the group, and he’s brought the rest of his friends with him. Logan and the rest of the guys he eats lunch with, the senior guys on the football team and Evie and the rest of the cheerleaders, all crowd behind him, peering over to see what’s going on, and I smirk. Good. No matter how pissed off I am with him over last night, I’m glad he’s brought them all over here to witness this.
I turn my attention to the boys in front of me. They’re still staring at me in disbelief, completely outraged at what I’m asking them to do. I gesture towards the floor. “Go on then. Clean up your mess.” I pause for a second. “Now.”
There’s maybe thirty seconds of complete and utter silence whilst they contemplate what they’re going to do. Their eyes dart about and they see the crowd around them, the older guys they respect waiting for them to follow my instructions, and just when I think they’re about to say no, Ethan steps forwards slightly, making his intention clear.
And thank God for high school social hierarchy, because they actually do it.
One of the boys sat farthest away stands and comes to pick up the carton I kicked their way. “Sorry, Paul,” he mutters as he walks past me to the trashcan at the end of the table, his face beetroot red, and I watch whilst, one by one, the rest of them all stand, bend down, and pick up the crap they’ve been throwing at Paul off the floor. I stare at them all impassively as they do it, their faces flushed with humiliation, just like Paul’s was five minutes ago. Finally they all sit back down, having done a pretty stellar job at clearing up the fries and cartons and random bits they threw at him. I turn my attention back to Will, the one I know, just know is the ringleader, the one who will have been pulling this sort of crap for years. He’s the one who hasn’t budged yet.
I tilt my head towards Paul. “Paul has this gravy crap on the side of his neck and it’s all over the floor,” I tell him, gesturing with my hands. Will’s face pales. “I’m pretty sure it was you who threw it at him. Am I right?”
“I was just playing around.”
I glance at the thick, gloopy substance on the ground. “It’s kinda dangerous,” I tell him, staring pointedly like I’m considering the safety of the students. “People could fall and hurt themselves.” My eyes find his. “You should probably wipe it up.”
He’s shaking his head immediately. “No, no way. The janitors can do it.”
“Why?” I ask, my voice loud and sharp. “You’re the one who threw it.”
He’s getting more and more worked up, but when he glances around at his friends, they look away, and he’s not getting any support from anyone in the vicinity.
“I don’t have any napkins to clean it with,” he finally bites out, his eyes pinning mine with pure loathing.
I shrug my shoulders carelessly. “Doesn’t matter. Use your hands.”
Will stills, but I don’t look away from him. I meet the challenge in his eyes head on, and I won’t back down. I don’t give a crap who he is or if he plays on the football team and thinks that makes him a big deal here. He is done picking on the people who are more vulnerable than him.
A movement in the crowd captures Will’s attention and his face burns red. Someone comes and sits down on the other side of me, turning the chair so he’s also facing the crowd, and I know without having to look that it’s Ethan.
“Hey sis.”
When I glance to the side, he has a smirk on his face and his arms crossed. He’s enjoying this. I allow a slow mocking smile to cover my face. “Oh hey, bro.”
The message is clear. For once the Carlington/Kavanagh twins are united. Despite the current state of our relationship, Ethan is backing me up, and I’m letting him. Everyone in the room knows it, and now there’s not a damn thing Will can do about it.
Because the same social hierarchy that made him think he could pull that crap with Paul is now proving I can do this to him. I can do this because Ethan Carlington is supporting me, and he can’t go against him.
He could possibly go against me. It’d be a risk, but he could try, and he could try to ignore Finn because he hasn’t outright said anything to side with me. Ethan, however, has just made it perfectly clear whose side he’s on—with all his friends watching—and Will can’t challenge him. With Finn and Ethan on my side, it wouldn’t be worth his life. Finn and Ethan wouldn’t even have to do anything afterwards to punish him. Everyone else would do it for them.
Slowly, so slowly it’s almost painful to watch, he stands and goes over to the gloopy crap on the ground. He hesitates, and I take this moment to jump in.
“Oh, Paul,” I say in the silence of the room, “you might want to watch this.”
Paul’s eyes flash to mine, and slowly he turns to face this kid who’s been throwing food at him, who’s probably thrown multiple things at him over the years, and he watches as the guy’s face burns an even brighter red with humiliation as he bends down and drags his hands across the floor, scooping up the lumpy gravy into his fingers.
Then he stands, walks to the side, and flings it off into the trashcan before wiping the remnants onto his jeans. He returns to his seat with his eyes cast down and his face red. He’ll hate me now, I know that, but I don’t give a shit. Maybe next time he’ll think twice about bullying someone.
I lean back against the table and glance over at Paul; he’s already looking at me, and he of
fers me a small grateful smile.
I grin back at him whilst he swipes at his neck, trying to get rid of the remnants of what landed there.
I lean towards him, still fully aware that we have an audience in this silent room as they wait to see what will happen next, and I reach out and wipe a spot by his mouth. “You missed a bit,” I tell him, even though there’s nothing there. His eyes widen at my close proximity and I just grin back. “S’okay, I’ll get it.”
And then I kiss him.
He freezes completely as the shocked silence gives way to gasps of surprise and whistles and catcalls, and I swear I hear Logan exclaim, “Go Paul!” I give his knee a squeeze and he finally moves slightly, tentatively starting to kiss me back whilst I change the angle so there’s no mistake to anyone that this isn’t just a quick peck on the lips. After another minute, I pull away, send him a wink, and turn back to the jocks who have their jaws gaping open. I lean closer to them to make sure they can hear me over the noise of the room. “You fuckers are probably going to work for him one day, so I’d start playing nice.”
Then I stand up, giving Paul one last reassuring squeeze on the shoulder, and brush past them, grabbing my hoodie off Finn as I go. The eruption of noise behind me is like a tsunami of cheers, and as I reach the door to the cafeteria where Pippa is still standing open-mouthed, I turn back around. Matty and his friends are clapping Paul on the back and high-fiving him whilst Ethan shakes his head from his spot at the table, a wry smile on his face, but it’s Finn who catches my attention, Finn who still has his gaze pinned on me with his eyes narrowed. My eyes meet his for a second but then I dismiss him and turn back to Pippa. “Wanna eat out today?” I ask her whilst she stares wordlessly at me. “My treat.”
Chase: Honestly bro, it’s gonna work.
I read the message and can’t help the smirk that curves my mouth.
Finn looks at me in interest. “Who’s that?”
“Chase,” I reply, knowing they all know my friend from Florida who visits sometimes. “He’s such an idiot.”
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