I sighed, rolling my eyes at her words. “It won’t.”
Brianna lifted her hands to her hat, pulling it off and letting her long burnt orange hair fall to her shoulders. With the frizz in her hair it now was poofy which made it appear shorter, and it was no longer shiny and silky like it had been the week before. She turned to face me, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at me with her bright blue eyes. “Look at what you’ve done to me.”
With Brianna’s hair unkempt and discolored, her nose bruised and still lightly dripping blood, and the look of defeat in her eyes, I couldn’t figure out why I had been so scared of her all of these years. At this moment, she looked more vulnerable than I had ever seen her look before, and in all honesty, I felt bad for her. Even if she was a spiteful bitch.
“I look like a troll doll.”
I stifled a laugh at her words, instantly seeing the resemblance. “Look, I truly am sorry, okay.” I raised my hands up into a surrendering motion.
Brianna shrugged her shoulders. “Well, what’s done is done.” She turned back toward the mirror quickly, but not before I saw another tear leak from her eye, and streak down her cheek. She discreetly tried to wipe it away by dabbing a napkin on it before moving said napkin to blot some blood.
I sighed heavily, walking closer to Brianna until I was standing right next to her; so close that I could smell her fruity perfume. An awkward silence floated around us as Brianna cleaned her nose, and I thought of something to say.
Suddenly, a question popped into my head. I knew the question was insensitive to the current situation, but I really wanted to know the answer to this question. “Uh,” I began, breaking the silence and gaining Brianna’s attention. “Did my itching powder work at all?”
Brianna squinted her eyes at me and raised her eyebrows, obviously surprised that I was asking such a question after I had just apologized.
“I was just wondering since I paid eight bucks for two packs of the stuff,” I quickly explained.
Brianna rolled her eyes and slowly began to laugh. A blank look crossed onto my face as Brianna’s laugh died down, and she began to cry fat tears. “It worked so well,” she groaned, in between soft sobs as she lifted her uniform shirt up to reveal her flat stomach. Along with her toned belly and shiny silver belly piercing, Brianna had red scratch marks all over her skin. The lines reddened drastically the farther up her shirt they were. There were even red marks along her hips.
She dropped her shirt back down, shaking her head before cupping it in her hands and leaned over the sink. “Everything is wrong,” she mumbled, the sobs now shaking her body.
I hesitantly placed my hand on her back, but was instantly shook off.
“Don’t touch me,” she cried.
“Sorry, geez.”
Brianna jumped up from her crouching position over the sink, glaring at me. “You’re always so damn sorry. Sorry about breaking into my house! Sorry about breaking my nose! Sorry about dying my hair, and my teeth, and pouring itching powder all over my clothes!”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Well, would you rather me not be sorry?” I questioned. “All of the times you bossed me around and bullied me, and teased me relentlessly for no reason, and not once have you ever apologized! Ever since we were kids you’ve made my life a living hell! If I could change one thing about my childhood, I’d make it so that I wouldn’t have grown up next door to you!”
Throwing her hands up into the air, Brianna raised her voice as she spoke. “Wow! I’d rather you own up to the things that you’ve done to me! Stop placing all of the blame on me!”
“But you’re to blame! We could have been friends if it weren’t for you!”
“Me?” Brianna exclaimed, pointing at her chest in shock. “Me?”
“Yes, you! I’ve never done anything to you until recently!”
“Oh really?” Raising her hand, Brianna began to tick off her fingers as she said, “That time when we were eight and my parents went away for work, you put gum in my hair and I had to go to school for nearly two months with a bald spot. That summer that your parents bought you that huge Barbie dream car and you gave everyone a ride in it except for me. The time I invited you to my birthday party and you didn’t even come! I had begged my parents for weeks about having my party be cowboy themed just because I knew you were obsessed with Toy Story, but you didn’t even come! I had to suffer through a stupid cowboy party on my birthday, and you know what, I hate cowboys!” she yelled, throwing her hands up in the air again in exasperation. “Every time I tried to reach out to you, you shut me down. Eventually I just gave up. I figured that you already hated me, so why not give you an actual reason to hate me.” Tears welled in Brianna’s eyes from her anger.
My head pounded as all of the information pulsated through. I had always assumed that Brianna had just hated me and chosen me to be the one to receive her torture since I was an easy target, but maybe I had been wrong.
“Really?” I questioned, my words coming out in a whisper.
“Really,” she growled.
“For all these years I thought you hated me for no reason, and just picked on me because I never stood up for myself. Then later I assumed that it was because you liked Blake.”
Brianna shook her head, rolling her eyes. “I like black guys. I just messed with Blake to piss you off. I don’t even find him attractive.”
I couldn’t help the smile that formed on my face at her words. “I truly am sorry, Brianna. I had no idea about all of those things.”
She shrugged. “I’ve been known to hold a grudge.”
“You think?”
She chuckled. “I’m sorry I’ve been a bitch to you all these years. I honestly thought you deserved it”
Tucking my hair behind my ear, I shrugged. “Uh, it’s fine I guess.” I held my hand out to Brianna, waiting for her to shake it.
Her pale blue eyes glanced down at my hand, before she said, “Yeah, there’s no way in hell I’m shaking your hand. First off it’s got dried blood on it, and second off, we aren’t that cool yet. We’ll work our way up to a handshake. Okay?” She turned away from me and leaned into the mirror. “I think my nose will be fine though. Looks aligned and everything.”
“How do you know?”
A smirk twisted the corner of Brianna’s pink lips. “I want to be a surgeon someday.”
My brown eyes widened. I was learning so many new things today. “Well that’s something I didn’t expect. I thought you’d want to be a professional cheerleader or a stripper or something exotic.”
Brianna rolled her eyes at my words, but shrugged none the less. “Don’t judge a book by it’s cover.”
“What kind of surgeon?”
“Plastic,” she winked.
I groaned jokingly, mumbling, “I should have known,” as I leaned into the sink and flipped on the faucet, scrubbing the blood from my knuckles.
“Caught you red handed,” Brianna joked, making me laugh. She lifted her hat to her head and tucked her hair under it again, still smiling. “So it’s a truce?”
I nodded, wiping my wet hands on a paper towel. “Only if you try to be nicer.”
Brianna sighed. “I guess I can try to be nicer, but no promises.”
“And I’ll try not to think that you’re a bitch, but no promises,” I said sarcastically, before adding, “Truce.”
I smiled at her, and to my surprise, she returned the smile. Turning away, I went to unlock the bathroom door, and slipped out into the hallway, coming face to face with Blake.
His blue eyes pierced mine as he asked, “How did it go in there?”
“Following me?” I replied, ignoring his question. I began to walk down the hallway, back toward the cafeteria.
Blake grabbed my hand, intertwining our fingers together. “You guys tried to get revenge on Brianna for blackmailing me?”
I glanced sideways at him. “No, you narcissist. I was just tired of her crap, and Lena was mad at her for blackmailing Ella.�
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“I can’t believe you guys did all of those things. You really broke into her house?”
“Yep.”
Blake broke into a wide toothy grin. “So are you guys friends now?”
I scoffed before saying, “No, not at all, but we’ve agreed to tolerate each other at least.”
He nodded, mulling over my words. We walked, surrounded by a comfortable silence for a moment before Blake spoke again.
“Do you regret anything?” His dark hair flopped into his eyes as he turned to look at me, pulling me to a stop and causing me to meet his eyes.
A smirk turned the corner of my lips upwards. “Hell no. After all, there’s nothing better than revenge.”
Acknowledgments
Wow. I seriously have no idea how authors with a surplus of novels come up with new acknowledgements for every book. Of course, there is never a shortage of people to thank, but they are quite hard to put together. I have an unlimited amount of respect for the authors who have continued experience with writing acknowledgments. (Or should I say that my amount of respect for these authors is limitless?) Hopefully that was a smooth transition into my first thank you. Since I tend to be a person who enjoys giving thanks where it is due, I am obligated to mention the Limitless Publishing team. They definitely deserves a huge, "Thank you!" Thank you for seeing the potential in my writing, and in myself. I am blessed to be a part of the Limitless team, and I hope to continue publishing with you all in the future.
Another group of people that deserve a round of applause is my family. My mom, Jenessa, is the source of my writing talent, for she is a writer herself. We merely use different forms of expression. Her story-telling is creative, and enthralling, and I hope that my life experiences can guide my writing in the ways that hers do. I would also like to thank my father, Terry, for always supporting me in my endeavors and pushing me to be the very best that I can be. Last, but not least, I also want to acknowledge my siblings, John, Tamrin, and Trinity, for giving me tons of inspiration for my writing. They offer an endless supply of real-life experiences that shape my writing, and me as a person.
Finally, the last people I want to mention are my friends Maryam, Avery, and Sara, and the Edison Writing Department. In my junior year of high school I was forced to switch from a school where I had grown up with most of the students, to a place where I knew very few people. I was like Lena in the sense that I had moved to an unfamiliar area where I had to start all over. These three girls acted as my Violet and gave me friendship when I needed it the most. For that, I am forever grateful. Finally, the Edison Writing Department helped me hone my writing skills and better myself in so many ways. These five teachers that I listed on the dedication page have left a lasting impact on me. They are the epitome of what all teachers should be, and the students who have the opportunity to learn from them are indeed blessed.
Thank you all.
About the Author
Taylor Henderson is a twenty year old college student that was born and raised in Northern Virginia. She has been an adamant reader and writer since she was young, and has always found solace in the worlds and characters that other authors have brought to life in their works. Taylor is currently working on the sequel to Better Than Revenge, as well as other cowritten stories.
Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/TayMHenderson
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https://twitter.com/TayMHenderson
Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9885214.Taylor_Henderson
Better Than Revenge (Sweet Secrets #1) Page 24