“Thanks,” I murmur, giving her a faint nod as I take the pen and start taking notes. Gingersnap keeps talking and writing down dates on the blackboard. At least I’m getting a smidge of education out of this hot mess.
“Don’t let them get to you,” Jenny says. “The guys can be really mean for no reason, especially to new students.”
I nod again, briefly glancing at her. I’d like to believe her, but I know Rhett, Kellan, and Gage. Maybe as much, if not more than she does. They weren’t like this in summer camp. The more I think about it, the more convinced I am that something happened with them—something to make them act this way towards me.
Kellan’s back to flirting with the brunette, who keeps scowling at me whenever our eyes meet. I don’t like her. Not because she’s got his attention—I’m already coping with the fact that whatever Kellan and I had is clearly gone, burned and buried, never to be seen again. No, I don’t like her because of how low she’s willing to go in order to ingratiate herself with him.
Frankly, I’m astonished Kellan is even turned on by such a specimen. If there is one thing I know that stirs his interest, it’s a self-assured woman. The same goes for his brother and his friend.
My phone buzzes. It’s Kyle, asking how I’m getting along. Where do I even start?
5
Elly
I survive till lunchtime without any more incidents.
The dining hall is huge, compared to my old school, but, then again, the population of Trinity High is twice as big—and thrice as terrible. The noise hits me from the moment I walk in. Laughter, bad jokes and constant chatter.
At least it’s crowded enough that few people even notice me. Breathing a sigh of relief, I head over to the cafeteria, where some of America’s unhealthiest foods are on display. Something tells me the town council should have invest more in what they feed the students, instead of sprucing up the flower bushes outside the Mayor’s residence.
Stale pizza from yesterday. Stiff-looking French fries. Cheesy scrambled eggs. Battered hamburgers and 30-cent buns. The display makes me want to cry on the inside, but at least there’s some coleslaw to make it all go down easier. I load a tray with a slice of pizza, French fries and coleslaw, then fill up a paper cup with cold water. I’d kill for a bear claw right about now. My old school paid more attention to what they put on our trays. Our principal had been a staunch supporter of Michelle Obama’s food policies, and I’d actually enjoyed the greens and the fresh fruit that were added to our lunches every day.
Holding my tray firmly with both hands, I turn around and look for a remote corner to sit in, as far from the madding crowd as possible. My heart pounds when I see Kellan and Rhett coming in. They don’t notice me, though, as they head for what I assume is their table. No one’s touched it. Probably a “house rule” or something. Don’t touch the Hotshot’s table or else they’ll ram a pitchfork through your pisshole.
I move away from the cafeteria and dart along the wall before I’m spotted. Someone waves at me. Kyle. “Thank the bleepin’ stars,” I mutter, and reach him quickly. There are a couple of sophomores at the other end of our table, but they don’t seem bothered by my presence. They’re too busy talking about the Winter Dance.
“How was class?” Kyle asks me while I try to find the right angle from which to attack this pizza slice, my gaze occasionally darting across the hall, making sure The Hotshots haven’t seen me.
“Let’s just say I made a memorable entrance,” I mutter, then tell him about Rhett’s trip and the jabs I got during my introduction segment.
It makes Kyle angry, but he does a fine job of keeping it together. “I’m sorry this is happening, Elly. I’d tell you to take it up with the principal, at least, but these guys are shielded by more than half of the community. I settled things on the judo mat with Kellan, and, by extension, with Rhett and Gage, but everyone else is either ignored or a target, where they’re concerned.”
“Yeah, I figured that much when Gingersnap was more pissed off about me talking back to the brunette bimbo than she was about the insults the brunette bimbo hurled at me, in the first place,” I say.
“Gingersnap?”
He raises an eyebrow at me, and I chuckle, deciding to work on the French fries first. They taste better than they look. Maybe the pizza won’t be that bad, either. “It’s how I call Mrs. Humphries. Easier to remember.”
“Figures. And the brunette bimbo’s name is Kaylee.”
“Figures,” I sigh. “It would be Kaylee, or Harper, or Jaycee, with a double ‘e’ at the end…”
It makes Kyle laugh. “You’re not into the popular girls, huh?”
“What point would there be? Most of us are not going to see each other again after high school, anyway, and I’ve got a broader range of interest than the so-called popular girls. Mom says I’m an old soul.”
“I can see why,” Kyle says, smiling. “It’s a good thing, though. You’re going into life with a healthier mindset. People our age are still stuck on high school glory and the latest fashion fads. You’re ahead of the game, Elly. Let that be your comfort whenever this place makes you feel bad.”
I give him a smile. “You’re not far from me, either, come to think about it. Your wisdom is… unnatural for your age.”
“Well, I’m bisexual. I’ve kind of had to put up with some crap earlier in my junior year. It opened my eyes.”
His candor surprises me, but I welcome it. “Bullies, huh? Did The Hotshots have a hand in that?”
Kyle shakes his head. “No. If there’s one thing I can give them credit for, it’s that. They never pick on you for who you’re into. They’ll have issues with your clothes, your beat-up Beetle, your social status, but not your sexuality. Hell, Rhett beat the shit out of my last bully back in sophomore year, shortly before I hit a growth spurt and started acing judo training.”
The memory makes him laugh. His account of The Hotshots sounds closer to what I know about them, though they still come across as assholes and just a slightly different kind of bullies. I’m so confused…
“Tell me about summer camp,” he says. “You said you met them there, and they were different.”
I nod frantically. “They were. I swear. Granted, we weren’t off to the greatest start since Rhett nearly ran me over with his car, but we quickly warmed up to one another. We never talked about where we were from… they said details didn’t matter. I had a feeling they just didn’t want me to know, and I think they got the rest of the camp to keep quiet about it, too…”
“So, you asked around when they wouldn’t tell you, huh?” Kyle grins.
“Pretty much. I should’ve known then that what we had wouldn’t last,” I sigh. “Kyle, I swear, they were not the people I saw today. Sure, they had their rough edges and whatnot, but they showed me nothing but respect and…”
My voice trails off, as I realize I don’t want to give him too many details. Kyle is nice and all, but given how this school has treated me thus far, I should be more careful with what sort of information I disclose, especially where Rhett, Kellan, and Gage are concerned. The last thing I need is gossip swarming about them.
Kyle watches me curiously. “And?”
“That’s it. We hung out. Talked about… stuff. Chugged whiskey and smoked spliffs,” I laugh lightly. “I just don’t understand what possessed them to turn into absolute bullies.”
Kyle nods slowly. “You’re not going to get anything out of them while in public, Elly. They’ve clearly shown you how they’re willing to treat you here. It’s best if you try to approach them in private.”
“They’ve not answered my texts in over two weeks,” I say.
“Nah. In person. You need to do it in person. And if you’re worried they might hurt you, or do something even worse, then let me know and I’ll be just around the corner, in case you need me.”
My heart swells. How can Kyle be such a sweetheart? He’s a breath of fresh air in the midst of this suburban nightmare. His kindness an
d wit make me want to trust him more. Maybe, after a while, I’ll find the courage to open up more and give him the details of my summer camp frolics with The Hotshots.
His smile fades as he sees someone approaching our table from behind me. Before I can turn my head to see who it is, I hear Kyle shout. “No, stop!”
Strawberry milkshake is poured on top of my head. It’s cold and I don’t know how I’m not screaming. Maybe it’s the shock, as roaring laughter and gasps erupt all around me. I’m paralyzed, strawberry milkshake dripping all over. My breath is ragged, as I try to understand what just happened.
“You son of a—” Kyle jumps from his seat, about to beat someone up, but I recognize the voice that cuts him off. The voice of my assailant.
“Don’t even think about it, Perry,” Gage says. “Or that truce you’ve got going on with Kellan is rendered null and void.”
The warning stops Kyle cold in his tracks. His hands are balled into fists, but he won’t dare challenge Gage. This is where I realize that I am truly alone. That all the reassurances that Kyle gave me are worth little to nothing. He’s just trying to be friendly and supportive. He won’t throw a single punch to defend me.
The school protects them. The students who aren’t on the receiving end of their wrath accept them. Some even worship them, like Kaylee and the rest of the mouth-breathers with long flowing hair and pink nail polish…
I’m on my own, drenched in strawberry milkshake, surrounded by people who dislike me for no reason whatsoever. Raising my head slowly, I find Gage standing next to me, holding an empty cup. He’s smiling, as he gives me a nonchalant shrug.
“Sorry, hot cakes. I slipped,” he says, drawing another round of sickening chortles from around our table.
I’m speechless. Tears are stinging my eyes. How the fuck am I going to get through this day, when I’m covered in strawberry fucking milkshake?
This wasn’t an accident. I know it, and Gage knows it. Strawberry milkshake is my absolute favorite, and The Hotshots used to bring me one almost every day from the nearest town during summer camp. A reason for me to smile has suddenly turned into yet another reason for me to despise Gage.
Behind him, Rhett and Kellan are grinning, satisfied with this outcome. They’re bastards. Absolute bastards. Everything that happened this summer was clearly just a neatly wrapped stack of lies and bullshit. Nothing more, nothing less. Now, I feel violated. I gave myself to Kellan, thinking he was genuine about the feelings he said he had about me…
I opened my heart up to Rhett, told him about my fears about the relationship between my parents… my dream of maybe someday pursuing a political career. About the little things that made me smile, or the subtle things that turned me on.
I let Gage into my soul, too. He treated me like a princess, spoiling me rotten…
It was all an act. An ephemeral illusion that died along with the last scorching days of August. It died the moment I got into my parents’ car, when they picked me up and took me home. And now, I’m the idiot.
The joke.
I get up in the middle of a sea of people still laughing. “I don’t get what’s so fucking funny,” I say to Kyle, absolutely ignoring Gage and the others. “This isn’t the first milkshake dunked on someone.”
“Elly, I…” Kyle tries to reply, but he doesn’t have anything good to give me. Not after Gage’s interjection. I don’t want him to get in trouble, too.
No. The Hotshots have just started a war against me. And I intend to fight back. Starting tomorrow. Today… I’ve lost the battle. I need to go clean myself up and see if I can borrow a t-shirt from Coach Alberts, since he’s got a few extra pieces for the girls’ softball team.
I’ll get through the rest of class. Keep my head down.
Soon enough, I’ll teach these sons of bitches that I’m the last person they should’ve fucked with.
6
Elly
The bathroom is quite crowded, much to my dismay. Heads snap as they turn to look at me. Girls from all social layers of the school, sharing this brief moment of my misery, on full display. The three beauty queens are here, too. Shit.
I’m covered in strawberry milkshake, my cheeks practically simmering, and I have nothing witty or snarky to say. All I can do is stand in the doorway and hope that no one will say a word. Murmurs echo through the room, its walls white and clean, unlike my dairy-drenched presence.
One of the Goth girls backs away from the sink. It’s a sign I can use it.
“Thanks,” I mumble as I walk past the beauty queens and stop in front of the mirror. I look like the end game of a stupid high school prank—which is exactly what this is, anyway. They could put an image of me in the dictionary for precisely this moment.
I turn on the cold water and start washing the milky goo from my face and hair, first. Tears well up in my eyes, but the cool stream is quick to neutralize them as I continue to work on bringing myself back to a decent state. Around me, footsteps shuffle across the marble floor. Some of the girls are leaving. Others are coming in. But there is a presence that persists. I can feel them staring. Their eyes in the back of my head. I try not to care, but I can’t stop myself. It’s all too much. I never asked for any of this. All I did was say hi to three people I thought were my friends. They could’ve just texted me. Kellan could’ve said it was over, to spare me this string of humiliation. No matter how I look at this, I can’t find the sense in their actions or in their hurtful words.
Tears stream down my cheeks. Stubborn little things. I wash my face, over and over, my body shuddering as I struggle to keep my composure. But I’m failing. Visibly. And the beauty queens are still here, for some reason, watching me.
Inhaling deeply, I straighten my back and check myself in the mirror again. My hair is soaking wet, but most of the milkshake is gone. My shirt and vest are compromised, though. There’s not enough water on this tap to fix the problem. I’ll need to talk to Coach Alberts, who will probably want to know how I ended up with a milkshake all over me.
I look at the beauty queens. Two of them are smiling and texting, leaning against the radiator. The third one, who gave me a pen in class, is adding pink gloss to her perfect lips. I can see why the guys love them. They’re hot, and they’re unapologetically wearing things that bring out their best features. For a split second, I wonder if Rhett or Kellan or Gage have been with one or all of them. It wouldn’t surprise me if they had.
“I’m Prestley, by the way,” the glossy queen says, without taking her eyes off her reflection. “We were never properly introduced. “The turquoise princess is Sarah,” she adds, nodding back at the first beauty queen, who’s sporting a turquoise summer dress, with a wide brown belt fastened around her waspy waist, and Greek-style sandals. “Rockabilly over there is Tandy.”
Tandy gives me a dry smile, black eyeliner amplifying her cat eyes. She’s got a red bandana keeping her hair up in a tight ponytail, her boobs wrestling against a checkered shirt, tied up above her waist. The jeans she has on look like they’ll explode if she so much as bends forward.
They’re different in style, and yet they somehow they still manage to fit together perfectly, like a special edition Barbie set.
Prestley is Jennifer Anniston all-American girl-next-door beauty.
Sarah is slightly bohemian but her nose high enough in the clouds that you can never touch her. She’s probably a model. She’s got the endless legs for it.
Tandy… Tandy is a bad girl. I’ll bet she likes to smoke and drink whiskey. She probably gets turned on by muscle cars and motorcycles. I can see why they work together as Trinity High’s beauty queens, though.
They complete each other. Meanwhile, strawberry milkshake drips from my shirt and onto the edge of the sink. I give them all a meek smile. “Reckon you already know who I am,” I sigh.
Prestley chuckles, putting her lip gloss back in her suede purse as she turns to face me. “Elly, this is a dog eat dog world,” she says, matter-of-factly. “You found yourse
lf on the receiving end of a bullying, but it doesn’t mean you’ll be there for the rest of your life. This is only high school, after all.”
I take my vest off, first, doing my best to clean as much of the dairy goo as possible under the water stream. “Yeah, I know. It’s my last year, anyway. It’ll be over before I know it. Right?” I say the words, but it doesn’t feel like it. Right now, this feels like it matters more than the rest of my life, no matter how illogical that is.
“Or they could make it feel like a lifetime,” Tandy replies, her tone clipped. She’s not wrong, unfortunately.
“Point is, you can’t let them get to you,” Prestley adds.
I shoot her a brief glance. “Thought you were friends with Rhett & co.”
“We are,” she says, shrugging. “That doesn’t mean I can’t offer a word of wisdom to those they choose to torment.”
“Speaking of, what’s their beef with you, exactly?” Sarah asks.
My face is burning. It feels like it might fall off, so I splash some cold water on it, just to keep my mind focused.
“I have no idea,” I say. It’s the honest to God truth, too. They don’t need to know about my summer with The Hotshots. Unless one of them talked. No, that doesn’t make sense. You’d definitely hear people talking about your summer fling. Flings.
“That’s odd. Rhett doesn’t usually pick fights for no good reason,” Prestley ponders.
“I doubt you can call this a fight. I’d have to hit back for it to qualify,” I reply, wondering whether I should wait until they leave or just take my shirt off now. I’ve got a bralette on, anyway.
The girls laugh. Even their laughter is pretty. I snort like a piglet. And I’ve picked the wrong moment to compare myself to them. All it does is further stomp on my self-esteem, and it’s only making everything worse. I’m about to cry again. Dammit.
Trinity High: High School Bully Romance Page 4