by Bella King
Speaking of knives, I ought to bring one to school, just in case. It was only fair to even the playing field. Nobody was going to get the upper hand on me today. I believed Molly now when she said that Megan was dangerous, but I still wasn’t willing to bend over and let her fuck me like this. No ma’am, I was no pussy.
My room was big, but I didn’t keep much in it. I was messy by nature, as all artists were, so I kept very little in the way of possessions. It made it so much easier to keep things neat. A big room and only a few items made it difficult for my living space to appear disorderly even when it was. I knew where everything was, though.
I walked over to my dresser after dropping my skirt. I undid the buttons to the too-tight blouse and tossed it on the floor next to the skirt. Thankfully, I had six different pairs of the exact same outfit for school. They were exuberantly overpriced, but money wasn’t an issue.
I pulled open the drawer, unlatching my bra and throwing it on the ground. I searched through the bras I had in there, pulling out a white lace one. I couldn’t wear any of the dark ones, which sucked because most of my clothes were either black, blue, or emerald. I preferred jewel tones to make my blonde hair pop.
The intricate lace looked amazing against my pale breasts, and I wondered why I hadn’t worn this bra more. I was so stuck on dark colors that I barely got the chance to, but with my school uniform blouse being white, I now had to opt for lighter tones. I liked it.
I peeled off my leggings and discarded them with my panties in the same pile as my other clothes. I didn’t do my own laundry, but I still had to take it down to the laundry room if I wanted it cleaned. Someone came in every afternoon to wash clothes while everyone was still at work, or school in my case.
I pulled on an outfit that looked nearly identical to yesterday’s and prayed this one wouldn’t meet the same fate. My mother would be annoyed to have to buy more uniforms for me just weeks into the school year, but it wasn’t my fault that everyone had turned against me so quickly.
Molly was the closest thing I had to a friend now, but even she was a bit odd. I wondered if she actually liked me after I stole her shirt, but she had probably seen worse treatment from Megan. With that in mind, I was probably the nicest person at Palm Valley to her. It was funny how relative it all was.
I glanced over at the table, where my grandfather’s old whittling knife lay. He had given it to me before he passed away, but I never used it. I believe it was intended for a grandson, but he never had one of those. My parents only had me, and my grandfather had little else in the way of family.
I grabbed it off the table. The wooden handle was worn so smooth that it felt like butter in my hand, but when I flicked the blade out it was anything but smooth. It was dreadfully sharp, easily able to slice through wood like it was paper. I snapped it back shut and placed it and tucked it into the band of my leggings, copying Megan. Two could play that game.
There wasn’t a clock in my room because I always used my phone, but thankfully there was a large grandfather clock downstairs that I could use to make sure I got to school on time. Slide down the banister, which was the fastest way down to check it.
I hopped off right before my hip it the end, which had a little ball on it. I had half a mind to knock it off so that I could complete my slide instead of having to hop off, but I knew that my mother would notice. Despite the house being huge, she always noticed when something was out of place. That was something I had inherited from her. It served me well in design.
Speaking of which, since my bag was missing, I wouldn’t be able to work on my dress ideas until I got it back. That notebook had a lot of value to me and I had no copies. That was what I planned all my dresses in. It would be my recipe book if I was a chef. I had to get it back.
The knife was so smooth against my leg that I could barely feel it there. I thought it had dropped out for a second until I reached up my skirt and found it securely resting against my hip. It was the perfect weapon, but Molly had me beat with that gun. She didn’t fuck around.
The clock downstairs told me that it was time to leave. I could have left later, but there was no reason to delay my exit. I would need extra time to look for Bradly and get my bag back. I was a bit too afraid to confront Megan about it just yet, although I would never have admitted it to anyone.
I left the house with time to spare but realized that my car was still in the school parking lot. I groaned, but I shouldn’t have been so ungrateful. My family had a spare car in the garage.
Chapter 8
There are rules to war.
I recognized Bradley from his large frame from down the hall. He was standing in front of a group of cheerleaders, gleefully chatting it up with them. What a player. I hoped he enjoyed those STDs.
I took a long step toward him, my vision focused on that wide back. He was a hunk for sure, but an asshole, so totally off-limits. Molly seemed to think he might even be worse than Megan, but I wasn’t so sure about that.
I tapped him as high up on his back as I could reach, which was the bottom of his shoulder blade. He didn’t even turn around at first, laughing and complimenting some ditsy girl’s hair before turning around to see wanted his attention.
He frowned in annoyance when he saw me, like I was little more than a fly on his shoe. “What’s up, Ava?”
“I need my stuff back,” I said, placing my hands on my hips.
“What stuff?”
“Megan locked me in the damn classroom yesterday and nearly killed me. I left my bag in there,” I replied.
He shrugged, large shoulders bouncing like a ton of steel. “Maybe it’s in the lost and found.”
“So, you don’t have it?” I asked, squinting at him.
“No, and if you’ll excuse me, I have some pussy to catch,” he said, shaking his head in annoyance and turning around to face the cheerleaders again.
I growled, but then sped past him to the school office to retrieve my belongings. I hoped they had turned up there and not in Megan’s hands. I didn’t want to duel her in an empty classroom just to get my bag back.
“Sorry, but we don’t have anything here,” a large black woman said, shaking her head at me from behind a tall desk.
“Are you sure?” I asked, looking over her as though she might be hiding it behind her chair.
“I’m sure. If anything turns up, we’ll keep it for you until you return to get it. Try check again later this afternoon,” she said, flashing me a polite smile.
I didn’t return it, spinning around and charging out angrily. That bitch Megan was going to feel my wrath is I didn’t get my stuff back.
It was almost time for class, but my bladder was threatening to explode if I didn’t get to a bathroom beforehand. All that liquid was good for my head, but I had to piss like a racehorse now because of it. I darted into the closest bathroom I could find to relieve myself.
There seemed to be so many bathrooms with so many stalls at Palm Valley academy that nearly all of them were empty when I entered them. That was nice in a way, but on the other hand, it put you in danger and made for easy confrontations if someone caught you off guard.
It was never my intention to run up on Megan in this way, but it was an opportunity I couldn’t resist when I saw her black shoes peeking out from the stall. They were unmistakable, the heels far thinner than they should have been if she was following dress code and shined up to an annoying sheen.
I walked quietly up to the stall, slipping the whittling knife from my waistband and flicking it open with a mean click. She seemed to pause on that sound but flushed the toilet a moment later. Good. The bitch didn’t suspect a thing.
I waited just outside the stall with the knife clutched firmly in my hand, praying that nobody would enter and disrupt this daring confrontation. I had her off guard, which I could only assume was a rare occurrence. I might never get this chance again.
The door swung open, and I smiled. Her perfect red lips opened in a circle shape, the pupils in her
blue eyes expanding to their full potential. She wasn’t expecting this, and, how could she? Even I didn’t see it coming until it landed in my lap.
“Keep your mouth shut, cunt,” I snapped before she could say anything. I waved the menacing blade at chest level. “I want my stuff back.”
“What stuff?” She asked, clinging to the metal bar in the stall that was intended for handicap students. She barely moved a muscle as I spoke to her, likely frozen in fear.
“My bag with my phone and notebook in it. I dropped it in the classroom when you poisoned me,” I said, my voice dripping with disgust.
“It’s in my locker,” she replied, her eyebrow signaling distress. It was cute how pathetic she was under the blade. What a wimp.
“What’s your locker number?” I asked, pushing the blade out toward her.
She didn’t flinch. “31, 27, 18.”
“Is that the right one? Say it again,” I demanded, making sure she didn’t pull it out of her ass. I wasn’t playing games today.
“It is right. It’s 31, 27, 18. Dial it and you’ll see,” she said, looking offended that I would suggest that she was lying to me.
I rolled my eyes. “Alright, princess. Don’t try any of that shit you did to me yesterday again or I’ll stick you. Do you understand?” I asked, shaking the knife more violently now.
“Yes,” she said, pursing her lips.
“Good,” I said, then I lowered the knife and bolted from the bathroom. I needed to grab my stuff before she had time to come back after me.
When I got to the lockers, I slid down the line, searching for Megan’s. This school was so uppity that they had everyone’s locker labeled with an engraved silver plate reading their first and last name. It was cute but it made it too easy for people to target people.
I found Megan’s locker easily, spinning the padlock on it like a madwoman, dialing in the numbers she had given me. It clicked open on the first try. At least she wasn’t dumb enough to give me a fake number.
I pulled open the locker and spotted my bag immediately. I yanked it out and looked down into to check the contents. Everything appeared to be there. I slammed the locker shut and snapped the lock back in place just as the bell rang to signal the start of the school day.
Chapter 9
It’s okay to make mistakes if you learn from them.
I slid into my seat as Mr. Griffon started the lecture, flipping open my notebook as I always did to start working on my dresses. My phone still had some charge in it, but there wasn’t much reason for me to have it. I never got any calls on it, so I left it in the bag.
I looked up at the teacher every few minutes to make sure that he wasn’t wrapping up the lesson. I didn’t want to make the same mistake as before and get caught alone in the classroom. I had the feeling that Megan would do worse after I had threatened her today. This was war.
I couldn’t concentrate on my dress sketches with everything that had happened in the past two days. How had this school turned into such a dangerous place in such a short amount of time? How had nobody stood up to this woman already? Maybe that girl who drank herself to death that Molly mentioned had stood up to Megan. Perhaps that why she was dead.
It made me sick to think that another Student could kill someone and get away with it, but you never knew at places like this. Palm Valley had little to do but play golf and watch your stock investments make you more money than you would ever be able to spend. People got into all sorts of trouble when they were bored.
At least I had been able to occupy myself with dress-making and school. Other people here seemed to think doing lines of coke in the bathroom was a good use of their time. I had caught one girl doing it off her phone in the bathroom last week, and she didn’t even flinch when I walked in, like it was a totally normal occurrence. Crazy.
I wasn’t much into substances, but that’s not to say I hadn’t tried them. I smoked plenty of cigarettes after I turned 18, but I didn’t like them, so I never continued long enough to get addicted. Harder drugs came later, but I only did things once to see how it felt. I never wanted to end up as a junkie like I knew some of these people would. Just because you’re rich doesn’t mean that drugs have no effect on your life. You might not lose all your money, but your health never returns once you fuck it up.
My cousin died of an overdose. I knew that scene better than I would have liked to. It was a stark warning not to let myself get too deep, no matter how fun it seemed at the time. It just wasn’t worth it.
I looked up from my notebook to see the teacher starting to wrap up the lecture. I slammed my book shut and stuffed it in my bag, eager to get out of here before the last student did. Sitting in the back didn’t seem like that good of an idea anymore, but the seating was difficult to change. People didn’t like it when you stole their seat, even though the seats weren’t officially assigned. They didn’t need to be. Students were territorial creatures.
I hurried to the door with the other students and made it out long before the last student left. I wasn’t going to be caught slipping twice.
The rest of the day went by faster than usual, and I joined Molly for lunch to see if she knew about what I had done to Megan yet. I had the feeling that despite her warnings, she envied my boldness when it came to opposing Megan. I felt like doing a bit of bragging.
I plopped down on the seat beside her at the lunch table, my plate stacked with four slices of pizza. I ate them like they were one, with ranch dressing poured between slices like icing on a cake. It may have been weird, but I liked them that way.
“What’s up, Molly?” I asked, slapping my plate down.
She jumped at the sound. “Oh, Jesus Ava, I thought you were Megan.”
“Still scared of that bitch? You shouldn’t be,” I said, taking an obnoxiously large bite of my pizza.
“Why not?” she asked, her glossy brown eyes gazing at me with innocence. After seeing the gun in her car, I didn’t know what to think about that gaze. It really couldn’t be all that innocent.
“She was scared of me today,” I said smiling arrogantly. “Because of this.” I reached down and slid my grandfather’s whittling knife out of my leggings, placing it on the table gently.
“What did you do?” She asked, her eyes large like a bug.
I shrugged. “Put her in her place, I guess.”
She snorted air out of her nose. “Yeah, right. What did you do? Stab her?”
I snatched the knife off the table and tucked it back into the band of my leggings. “No,” I replied, feeling a prickling of heat on my back from irritation. “I held her at knifepoint in the bathroom so I could get my bag back.”
Molly crunched on a french fry and shook her head. “You’re toast.”
“What makes you say that?” I asked. “I’m the one with the knife.”
She chuckled. “Megan doesn’t need knives to kill you. She can just get someone else to do it. You’re definitely not safe now. You really shouldn’t have done that.”
“Well, somebody has to,” I said, grabbing my stack of pizza slices and shoving another dripping bite into my mouth. The dressing oozed over the sides as I bit down.
“I’m telling you. It’s not a good idea,” she insisted.
“I don’t give a fuck,” I said, my voice muffled by my full mouth.
“Well, the least you can do is enjoy yourself before you die. There’s a camping trip that some of the other students are going on. Megan won’t be there, but the jocks will.”
“So?”
“So, Bradly will be there.”
“I’m not scared of him either,” I said, waving a hand of dismissal.
Molly sighed. “You’re literally walking into your grave, but okay. I don’t think he’s a threat when he’s with his boys, but I’m just warning you. It would be nice if you joined us.”
I hadn’t heard about this camping trip. It doubted it was school-sponsored, otherwise nobody notable would have gone except for Megan. She wore her school pride
like a badge of honor, being the student body president.
I tilted my head curiously at Molly, who was gently dabbing her fries in a neat pool of ketchup on her plate. “Who organized the camping trip?”
“Nobody, really. It’s an annual thing that some people like to do before the end of the summer. It’s like a final hoorah before it gets cold. There’s plenty of partying in the woods, and you have to hike for a few hours to get to the spot, but I would say it’s worth it.”
I nodded. “Sounds like fun. I guess I’ll go.”
“Yeah, just watch out for Bradly though. He’s one of Megan’s closest, and it sounds like she views you as a major threat now. To be honest, I probably shouldn’t even be eating with you,” Molly said, giving me an apologetic look.
“You don’t have to,” I said, taking slight offense.
“No, I want to. It’s just that you’re obviously going to be a big target from now on. Megan’s probably going to make me do some extra things to prove my alliance to her. It’s fine.”
“Prove your alliance? That’s fucked up. You shouldn’t do that,” I replied.
“Easy for you to say. I might pack heat, but it’s only for the weirdos that lurk around the parking lots at night. I don’t go looking for trouble like you do,” she said, placing a fry on her tongue and moving it into her mouth.
“I’m not looking for trouble. Trouble found me.”
“We’ll put that on your gravestone,” Molly replied with a laugh.
“Funny,” I said sarcastically.
“I wasn’t joking,” she said.
Chapter 10
Basking the rays of the sun is pleasant, but it will burn you eventually.
I took inspiration from Molly when I made a trip down to the gun shop downtown. It was a small place, but they were filled up to the ceiling with all sorts of firearms. It boggled my mind that a woman like me could get one after filling out minimal paperwork. I had to double-check it on my phone on the way there because it just didn’t seem right.