by Mae Doyle
“You. You and Quinn and all of your little asshole friends are my problem. What the hell, Alice? Shit in my room? That’s low, even for someone like you.” Before she can respond or shut the door in my face, I shove the tank top in at her.
The smell hits her in the face and she steps back. “Oh, God, that’s terrible.”
“Yeah, it is.” When she looks like she’s going to try to shut the door, I kick my foot out, blocking her. There’s no way that I’m going to let her get away right now. I need her to see that I mean business and that I’m not going to let her get away with anything.
She tries to slam her door but it bounces off of my foot. “Move your shoe, asshole,” she hisses, but I lean against the door, forcing it open. She steps back and I burst into her room, looking around.
For what? I don’t know. Red paint, perhaps. Excess shit? The boots that someone wore when they walked through my room and ruined all of my clothes?
“This needs to stop.” Waving the shirt at her, I make her back up. She drops to the edge of her bed and sits, but is still looking at me defiantly. I know that there’s no way I can intimidate her. If I want her and the rest of the students to really back off then I need to do more than just threaten her with my dirty shirt.
“You can make it stop. You want to know how? Leave. Fucking leave, whore. Nobody wants you here. We were all perfectly happy without you here, but then you had to come and cause a scene.”
“A scene? All I did was come here so that I could get training from the best of the best, same as you. What the hell are you talking about?”
She sneers at me and stands back up, coming to stand chest-to-chest with me. “What I mean is that we all knew our places, Abigail, and you walked in like you don’t know yours. You’re not top of the class. You’re not the best painter. We all have our roles planned out for us, and why you can’t seem to wrap your thick head around that, I have no idea.”
“All of you have your roles planned out for you? What the hell does that mean?” I’m not going to tell her that I know about Quinn and Mr. Stanfield, but I’m suddenly wondering if there are more arrangements like that at Trinity Prep.
She scoffs and crosses her arms. “Yeah, let me just spill all of our secrets for you. Stupid whore. Now get out of my room before I call for help and say that you were trying to rape me.”
“What?” Without meaning to, I take a step back. “Why the hell would you say that?”
Alice shakes her head like I’m too stupid to understand what’s going on. “Because you’re obsessed with me. Now get out.” The anger in her voice makes me snap back to attention.
Did I go too far?
Without giving it much thought, I toss my ruined tank top on her bed. “With pleasure.”
She shrieks and yells my name, but I turn and keep walking. Although she didn’t fess up to being in the group who ruined my room, she told me a lot more than she meant to, I’m sure of it.
Now I just have to figure out how many people here already have their internships planned out for them. I know one of them, but what Quinn doesn’t know is that I’m taking the internship for myself.
Chapter Thirteen
The rest of the week is quiet. Madeline had helped me clean up and throw away my clothes and bedding, but no amount of scrubbing took the red letters off of my wall. Thanks to her and Natalie, I had clean clothes to wear to class, but I still felt out of place.
Pretty much everyone in the senior class knows that I had been attacked, but the only people who really care were my three friends. Everyone else is siding with Quinn.
Even the teachers.
“Abigail, I need to talk to you.” Mr. Stanfield doesn’t look up from his papers when he talks to me. The rest of the class leaves after a long afternoon of painting, and I hover near his desk, unsure of what he wants and if I should sit down.
After the shit incident, the rest of the week has flown by. I was so glad this morning that it was Friday, but now I’m beginning to wonder what exactly he wants from me and how I can make it to the weekend.
“Is something wrong, sir?” All I want to do is go grab something to eat and then come back for a few hours to work on my piece. That’s what everyone in the class is going to do, and making sure that I get the same amount of time to work on my art is important if I’m going to have a fighting chance against Quinn.
“Actually, yes.” He drops his papers to his desk and walks around it, leaning on it near me so that we can talk. His fingers are long and lean and his dark mop of hair has a little paint in it from when he was demonstrating a new technique earlier in class today. “I think that we need to talk honestly about your ability to survive at Trinity Prep.”
“Survive? That sounds ominous.” I’m uncomfortable, and I shift my feet a little, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes are locked on mine like he’ll be able to tell exactly what I’m thinking.
“Listen, Abigail, I’m going to be honest with you. Trinity Prep expects a high level of work from students in all areas, not just in their chosen creative studies. I think that you have picked up on this, am I right?” He waits until I nod and then he continues. “Well, I was talking to some of your other teachers, and we’re just not sure that you’re the best fit.”
“And why is that, sir?”
He sighs and runs his hands through his hair. For someone who wants me out as badly as he does, he’s sure making a great show of looking unhappy about the conversation. “Because, Abigail, you just don’t have wait it takes to make it.”
“You mean a rich family?” It’s a bold statement, and not one that he was expecting. His eyes widen for just a moment, but long enough for me to know that I’m right.
“That’s not what I mean.” He frowns and collects his thoughts, leaning back on his desk a little. “Abigail, you seem like a nice girl. But the students who are going to be able to really make something of themselves have been studying and working hard for their entire lives. Just because you can put paintbrush to paper and create something that isn’t terrible doesn’t mean that you have what it takes to succeed.”
I know what he’s doing.
He’s trying to talk me into leaving so that he won’t get in trouble with Quinn’s family, but I’m not going to let him get away with this. I could make this easy for him, but I won’t.
“I’ll take that into consideration. Are we done?”
His eyes narrow at me for just a moment, like he’s trying to decide if I’m serious or not, but he finally nods and I turn on my heel to walk out.
Slamming into the door, I throw it open and stomp out into the hall. “How could he? What the hell does he think – that I’m just going to roll over and give up? That’s not who I am, and the people at this stupid school need to learn it.” I’m muttering to myself as I storm down the hall, and I don’t look up when I turn the corner.
That’s why I run straight into Quinn.
He grabs my shoulders and pulls me to him so that I can’t immediately yank back. As soon as I realize who it is, I try to pull away, but he has me snugged close to his body.
“You losing your mind, Abigail? I hear you talking to yourself coming down the hall.” There’s laughter in his voice and I hate him for it.
“Let me go, asshole.” Pulling back, I finally yank away from him so that we’re standing a few feet apart. I haven’t been this close to Quinn in a while, and my body knows it.
Immediately, there’s a throbbing between my legs. I bite my lower lip and try to ignore it, but my body is a traitor. He’s hot. He just had his hands on me. And I’d be remiss if I didn’t think about what it felt like to have his thumb brush over my nipple that night in the woods.
“You do realize that one of these days I want to collect on our little bet, right, Abigail?” He walks towards me and I back up, not paying attention to the fact that the wall is right behind me. Before I can get away from him, my back is pressed up against it.
He leans forward, pressing his body into
mine. I can’t help but think about what it was like in the woods when I was so exposed to him and the way he touched me like he could take all of the time in the world.
We’re alone again, and my body can’t help but remember what it felt like to be almost naked with him. I’d wanted Quinn back then and right now I want him just as badly.
“What if I don’t want you to collect on the bet?” I’m taunting him, and taunting Quinn is only going to get me so far. I know that it will put me even more firmly in his crosshairs, but right now I don’t care. I need to make him mad so that he’ll back off and get away from me.
“Oh, I know that you do. You’re blushing, Abigail. You’re breathing a little faster and shallower than you were before. Did you know that your pupils dilate just a little when you look at me?” His hips are pinning me in place and he reaches up, gently stroking my cheek before dropping his hand down to my arm. “Remember the other night in the woods?”
I want to squirm away from him. I hate how he seems to read my mind.
When I don’t answer, he squeezes my arm a little. “Do you remember? Because I can’t get the thought of your perfect little tits out of my mind, Abigail.” His hand slides along my side, caressing my breast. Immediately I feel my nipple spring to attention.
I hope he doesn’t notice, but of course he does.
“See, Abigail, you can pretend as much as you want that you don’t want me, but your body is telling me something different.” Without breaking eye contact with me, he reaches over and rubs my nipple through my shirt.
A soft moan escapes my mouth, and he reaches up, clamping his hand over my lips. “Shh, honey, don’t make a sound.”
Gently he parts my legs with his knee, forcing them farther and farther apart. I have on a borrowed skirt from Natalie and it rides up as he makes me open my legs. Quinn’s hand is still pressed against my mouth. I part my lips a little more at the pressure and he slips a finger in, brushing it against my teeth.
Immediately I suck it, even as part of my mind is screaming at me to stop. His eyes grow wide and he starts to breath faster as I suck his finger, swirling my tongue around it.
Quinn reaches down and grabs my thigh, his fingers burning hot against my skin. At the same time he leans forward to whisper in my ear. His breath is hot on my cheek and I shiver. “I thought that you didn’t want to fuck me, Abigail. Right now all I can think about is my cock in your mouth. What do you think about that?”
Even if he didn’t have his hand clamped tightly over my mouth, I don’t think that I would have been able to answer. As much as I had wanted to run just a few minutes before, my body has completely betrayed me. I know that I shouldn’t be doing this, and I certainly shouldn’t give Quinn what he wants, but I can’t seem to help myself.
I have to stop this.
As turned on as I am right now, a jolt of fear tears through my body. I shouldn’t be doing this right now. All it’s going to do is make it harder for me to make it through the rest of the year and make it easier for him to torment me.
Without thinking about the repercussions, I bite down.
Hard.
“Fuck!” Quinn immediately lets go of my leg and shoves me back, pushing me as hard as he can into the wall. He tries to pull his finger from my mouth but I bite down harder, wanting to get my point across.
I don’t want to bite it off or anything, but I need him to know that this has to stop.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Fucking cannibal!” He shoves me again and this time I open my mouth, letting his finger out with a pop.
But not before I taste blood.
I didn’t break his finger, I don’t think anyway, but I bit down hard enough to break the skin. His blood is warm and bright in my mouth and I turn and spit, the red splattering against the floor.
Quinn is looking at me with a mixture of horror and hate on his face. I can’t see the damage that I did to his finger because he has it held tight in his other hand. Drops of blood drip out from between his fingers and fall to the floor.
“You’re crazy.”
I spit again, this time at his feet. There’s less blood in my mouth this time but it still sprays on his shoes.
“You’ve lost your fucking mind.” For the first time since I’ve met him, Quinn seems almost scared of me. It gives me a thrill to think that I may actually have some power over him, no matter how I got it.
I don’t know what to say to him. It’s been hell since I came to Trinity Prep. Instead of answering him, I bend over, laughing. My laughter echoes down the empty hall. From my bent-over position, I can see him slowly backing up.
“You know what, Abigail? You fucked up. You thought that you were going to be able to survive the rest of the year here? Any chance that you had of that is gone. Gone! I was one of the only people who was willing to protect you, and now? Now you’re on your own.”
“Yeah, you just wanted to protect me so you could take my virginity.” I scowl at him as he straightens up and lets go of his finger, dropping his hand to his side. It drips constantly and slowly, creating an ever-growing puddle on the floor.
“With a mouth like that I’m hard pressed to believe that you actually are a virgin. Maybe Alice is right. Maybe you are just a whore.”
He turns and is gone before I can think of something to say to that. I’m not a whore, right?
But then why do I want him so badly?
Chapter Fourteen
Sliding into my seat in Professor Thiel’s class Monday morning, I get the feeling that something is wrong. I managed to make it into the room without making eye contact with Quinn, but even though I avoided him all weekend, I can feel his eyes boring into the back of my head.
Rather than risking being in the art department at the same time that Quinn was, I snuck down into it each night after everyone had gone back to bed. This means that I’m exhausted right now, but it also means that I got in a few hours without worrying about running into another student.
Professor Thiel looks unusually serious this morning. I can easily see why so many of the girls here fawn over him, but he definitely has his favorites. I’m not one of them, but the local god is, of course.
“Quinn. Would you mind to come up here and help me pass out the tests?” As soon as the words were out of Professor Thiel’s mouth, I feel myself start to panic.
I was so careful this weekend to make sure that I had time to paint that I didn’t remember there was going to be a test today. In fact, I’m not sure that I ever knew that there was going to be a test.
Raising my hand, I wait until the professor turns to look at me. “Abigail. Is there a problem?”
I nod and flip to my syllabus. “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t have anything on the syllabus about a test, so I didn’t know that I needed to study.”
He stares at me for a moment and then turns to Madeline. “Dear, would you mind to show Abigail the corrected syllabus?”
She flips open her notebook and then turns it so that I can see it. It’s clear on the page that we have a test today, but that’s not the information that I have on my syllabus. My face starts to burn and I bite my lower lip to keep my composure.
“I don’t have the correct syllabus then.” My heart drops as I think about what that means.
Professor Thiel rolls his eyes. “And I imagine that you’re going to tell me that someone stole your syllabus and replaced it with the wrong one, am I right?”
That’s exactly what I was thinking, but when he says it like that, it does sound a bit ridiculous. I don’t respond and he crosses the room in big steps, grabbing my notebook and turning it so that he can look at my syllabus.
As he does, he frowns a little. “Where did you get this? I never made this syllabus. It’s completely ridiculous. Is this what you’ve been following when you study?”
When I nod, he chuckles a little, but his voice sounds strained. “No matter you’re terrible in class. I have no idea who came up with this.”
The hair
on the back of my neck springs to attention. If it’s not a real syllabus and Professor Thiel hasn’t ever seen it before, then someone had to put it in my notebook when I wasn’t paying attention. There’s a fairly short list of people who I think would do this.
Probably the same person who came into my room. Who let people in to stomp around in shit-covered boots. Alice.
She’s not in this class with us, but I have no doubt that she made a bogus syllabus and put it into my notebook. It doesn’t even cross my mind that it could be anybody else. When Professor Thiel hands me my notebook, I take it, but I don’t take my eyes from his face.
“What are we going to do about this? It’s obvious that someone is trying to get me in trouble, isn’t it?”
Any compassion that I had seen in his face is gone, and he frowns at me. “Is it obvious? You’re a bit paranoid, Abigail. As for what we’re going to do, I’ll get you a copy of my real syllabus, but you have a test to take. It’s not my fault that it took you this long to realize that something was wrong.”
“Are you serious right now? That’s insane.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, but I realize immediately that I’ve made a huge mistake. Professor Thiel slowly turns to look at me. The rest of the class is all staring, but over his shoulder I can see Quinn grinning at me.
“The headmaster, Abigail. Now.” He looks more serious than I’ve seen before, so I know that this isn’t a joke to him, but I honestly can’t believe that he’d send me to the headmaster for something like this.
“I didn’t do anything wrong.” Even as I talk, I stand up. I know that I’ve lost this one, and the best thing for me right now is just to do what he’s telling me to, even though I hate it.
“Quinn, please escort Abigail here to the headmaster’s office for me. Make sure that she comes back when she’s finished, okay?” Professor Thiel has turned away from me and is talking about me like I’m not even in the room. I feel a flush of anger, but it quickly disappears when I see the look on Quinn’s face.