“Fine,” I yell, “have it your way! Ask your damn questions.” I pout in frustration. Dropping the edge of my skirt, I turn and flop my back against the passenger door like a three-year-old being told no. Narrowing my eyes, I wait for the inquisition to start.
By the time the question period is over, she’s going to think I’m some damaged slutty nut job who isn’t worth her time. We might as well get this over with now before either of us invests any more time into our friendship.
“What are you afraid of?” she asks bluntly, not breaking eye contact with me. “At first I thought you running off from The Aud yesterday was just first-day jitters, but now I don’t think it is. You flinch a little whenever somebody comes up behind you. You avoid even basic questions about your past. I know you’re afraid of something. And what the hell was that in the hall with Poe?”
A harsh laugh bubbles out of me, unexpected and awkward, causing her to startle in surprise. Shaking my head slightly and blowing out a loud sigh, I fight against my natural tendency to deflect and make the conscious choice to be honest with her.
“I don’t know what I’m scared of.” Those words deepen the furrows on her forehead like she thinks I’m full of shit. “No, really, I don’t know,” I explain. “There are a couple of obvious things that add to my anxiety, of course. I mean, hello, California and magically appearing family.” I pause. “Beyond that, though, I have some pretty huge memory holes, and when I look over the edge of them, things get black and scary. It forces me to step back before whatever lives inside swallows me whole.”
Running my hand through the loose ebony waves falling over my shoulder, I watch the strands slide through my fingers rather than look at Sunday. Heaving a deep breath, I pull my water bottle out of my bag and take a few big swallows. This next part was going to suck hard, and the words feel thick in my throat.
Just get through this. She wouldn’t be sitting here listening to your sob story if she didn’t care.
“I got beat up badly a few times in the group home I lived in after my mom disappeared. Like, really badly. Fighting back would have just landed me somewhere even worse, so I ran.” Her eyes widen slightly. “Things on my own got dicey a few times, and some bad shit went down, but I learned how to fight when it was necessary and discovered I’m way more resilient than I ever thought.” Shrugging dismissively, I keep my eyes downcast. “I took care of myself and was on my own for two years before Aunt Cecily somehow found me. Swooped in like a fairy godmother and asked me to come to California by sending me a letter in a wooden box.”
Finally daring to look up at my friend, I’m shocked to see silent tears painting mucky mascara trails down her cheeks. I glance back at my hands, now twisting nervously together in my lap, and force myself to continue.
“I wasn’t lying to you yesterday about having a panic disorder. Music has always helped me deal with the anxiety, but over the past year or so, I discovered something else that works really well too.” The next sentence comes out in a whoosh, all the words stuck together in one big breath. “Sex works really well at quieting my brain and letting me escape for a little while, and it’s probably not the best solution, but sometimes it was all I had. It’s not like I was out sleeping with anybody who asked; I’ve only ever had two boyfriends, and it was only with them. I can’t believe I told you all that.”
I suck in a breath.
And another one.
“As far as Poe goes,” I smile ruefully, “let’s just say we had an interesting meet and greet at the airport when my plane landed.” I look up to see curiosity briefly cross her features, followed by resolve as she reaches her hand out for one of mine. Gripping tight before she speaks, she chooses her words carefully.
“Thank you,” she begins earnestly, “for trusting me enough to share with me. I’ll always keep your secrets, and if you decide you want to explore any of those memory holes, I’ll be standing at the edge beside you, with a miner’s hat and a boxed lunch.”
Staring at each other across the SUV’s interior, we take in each other’s tears and runny eye makeup. We both start laughing hysterically for no apparent reason, and the oppressive atmosphere in the car fades along with a small bit of the weight I’ve been carrying solo for so long.
Stopping in the nearest restroom, we fix our makeup and make it to homeroom with half a minute to spare. We sit through the monotonous morning announcements before the first-period bell goes, and Mr. Morris, our gnome-like homeroom teacher, releases us all to head to class.
On the way to English, Sunday keeps up a brutally sarcastic commentary of her uptight mother’s latest quest for eternal youth. Apparently, in Mrs. Easton’s eyes, it wasn’t cleanliness that was next to godliness, it was youthfulness. And she spares no expense in her attempt to fight her advancing age. Only about half of what Sunday is saying registers with my distracted brain, though. The skin on the back of my neck keeps tingling with the weight of a hallway full of stares, but every time I casually glance around, nobody seems to be looking in our direction. Chalking it up to an overactive imagination, I try to tune back into Sunday’s monologue, and manage to smile and insert enough non-committal noises to pass for paying attention.
The rest of the morning plays out much the same way; Sunday keeps up a steady stream of chatter in between classes, while I keep feeling like people are staring at me and whispering behind their hands. Finally, the bell signaling our lunch period chimes. Everything about Woodington drips money and privilege, and the food is no exception.
“Seriously, this pasta bar is my new best friend,” I declare blissfully. Sunday nods vigorously in absolute agreement as we fill our plates with porcini mushroom and prosciutto lasagna and sides of Caesar salad. I have no idea what a porcini mushroom even is, but the lasagna smells like heaven. As we leave the line with trays in hand, we see Aylie and Roxy waving at us from a large table near the windows and make our way over to join them.
“Ladies! Have you come to grace us with your presence today? Or merely to eat your weight in pasta?” a masculine voice teases from behind us as we sit down. Sunday jabs Payne in the ribs with her fork as he sits down beside her, laughing.
“Are you calling me fat, you buffoon?” she asks him with a look of exaggerated indignation.
“Never. Those carbs keep your ass nicely rounded, so you just keep doing what you’re doing.” Payne ducks just in time to avoid the dressing-covered crouton she chucks playfully at his head.
My eyes focused on my lunch, I can’t keep the little smile from my lips as I listen to the two of them banter back and forth. She hasn’t come out and said it to me in so many words, but I can tell Sunday has a thing for Payne. I make a mental note to ask her what’s up with that situation the next time we’re alone. I’m so engrossed in their little barbs and my incredibly tasty lunch that I startle when a body sits down next to me. That damn addictive scent wraps around me again. I look up, expecting to see deep blue, but I’m surprised by bright green eyes twinkling at me instead, and I’m nearly blinded by the wide grin that comes with them.
“Hiya, New Girl,” he says, holding out his hand for me to shake. When I reach for it, he flips my hand over and brings my knuckles to his lips for a quick kiss. Poe sits down across the table from me with another of the guys from The Aud yesterday and shoots a dark glare at Green Eyes. He drops my hand, laughing as Sunday pipes up with introductions.
“Mr. Smooth over there is Raff, blondie across the table is Heller, and well, I think you know who Poe is.” She coughs delicately to cover her grin. “Guys, this is Stella. Play nice. The girls and I like her and don’t want you chasing her off.” Roxy and Aylie both nod in agreement.
Raff and Heller are polar opposites in looks, the former being all light eyes and shiny, nearly black hair, and the latter having blond hair almost as pale as Sunday’s and eyes like dark chocolate. Both guys offer me flirty grins in greeting and then promptly dismiss me as they start debating the merits of Porsche over BMW.
Poe
, however, is a whole other story. He doesn’t say hi, doesn’t even acknowledge I exist. He just eats his lunch, making a show of ignoring me, and occasionally interjects comments into Raff and Heller’s conversation.
Alright, assclown. You want to pretend it never happened, I can too.
I spend the next twenty minutes laughing and joking with the girls and Payne when Roxy smacks herself in the forehead.
“Duh, I almost forgot! My parents have decided to stay in Paris for another week, so party at my place on Saturday.” She grins. “Stella, you’ll come too, right?” Feeling like a night to hang out and get to know my new friends better might be just what I need, I agree but nearly regret it when Sunday all but begs me to go shopping with her beforehand. Having a friend who is so overtly girlie is utterly new to me.
The conversation all around us suddenly quiets, and I feel the focus in the room shift to our table.
“Did I hear you’re having a party, Roxy?” Hali steps up behind me, her fake-sweet tone barely disguising the chill underneath. Roxy flushes and presses her lips together, making me want to cuff Hali upside the head. Poe notices Roxy’s obvious discomfort too and interjects.
“You’re not invited, Hal. Maybe next time.” He pauses and thoughtfully chews a bite of his lunch. “But probably not.”
Sunday lets a loud snort escape before Payne jokingly clamps his hand over her mouth. He smiles innocently at Hali.
“Allergies,” Payne explains to her, straight-faced as the rest of us try to stifle our laughter.
Tossing her hair in a huff, she stalks off to her table, and the cafeteria starts buzzing again.
“You guys don’t think she’ll actually show up, do you?” Aylie frets, her forehead furrowed. “She’s so nasty. Nobody wants her around, but after what she did to…” She trails off and is quiet for a few seconds. “Well, everybody is a little afraid of her. Everybody except Poe and Sunday, that is.”
“And Stella,” Sunday adds with her mouth full of salad. “She went toe to toe with Hali and her merry band of bitches in the courtyard yesterday.” The entire table turns to look at me with surprise.
“New Girl has some balls, does she?” Heller teases from across the table.
“Bigger than yours, pretty boy.” I fire back to a chorus of laughter. An appreciative grin flits across Poe’s beautiful mouth before he notices me looking and arranges his face back into the arrogant mask I’m becoming used to seeing. Heller gets up and comes around the table, pulling me up from my seat. He bear hugs me and lifts me right off my feet.
“I like New Girl, too. I say we keep her.” Planting a loud kiss on my cheek, he sets me back down with a wink. Payne, Raff, and Poe all get up and join Heller, making their way toward the cafeteria exit. I wait for the girls to gather their things, and we follow the guys out, making plans for the party this weekend.
“Shit! Hang on, guys! I left my phone on the table. Be right back!” I sprint into the cafeteria and see my phone still sitting on our table across the room. Crossing quickly to grab it, I notice the odd silence descend again, and I just know Hali is behind me before I even turn around.
Chapter Eight
“We have unfinished business, you and I,” Hali hisses through clenched teeth and a fake smile. “You don’t belong here, and you know it. By the time I’m done, you’ll regret the day you ever stepped foot in this town, and you’ll be begging to crawl back to your shithole in New York.” The threat hanging in the air between us, I force my mouth to stay shut for now, though the words I want to say to this bitch are nearly choking me. Pushing by her, I try for the exit.
“Do you really think your white trash self can just walk away from me? Nobody walks away from me,” she snarls to my back.
I should have seen it coming, and in New York, on my turf, I would have. Even after our earlier confrontation, here in this expensive town with its expensive people, I didn’t expect ghetto rules.
Two hands shove hard on my shoulder blades just as I see a foot shoot out from the table closest to me, and down I go. The cafeteria switches from silence to hilarity instantly, the loudest of the laughter coming from Hali herself. Judging by the stinging pain and the taste of copper filling my mouth, I bit my tongue pretty damn hard when I hit, and the palms of my hands and my knees are going to hurt like hell tomorrow after slamming to the ground to break my fall.
Payne sticks his head back into the cafeteria and sees me on all fours with blood smeared across my lips, Hali standing over me looking like she just won some kind of prize. I watch as he grabs Sunday from the hall, and they move to my rescue. Lifting my chin and locking eyes with each of them in turn, I shake my head almost imperceptibly until they pick up on what I’m asking and stop moving toward me.
Slowly pushing myself to my feet and wiping my stinging palms on my skirt, I turn to face the bully behind me. She tries to cover her surprise at my audacity, but I recognize it. Like how dare I not be bawling and running from the room right now?
Yeah, well, fuck that and fuck her.
She doesn’t deserve my tears, and she’s got no idea who she’s dealing with. In the grand scheme of asshole behavior directed my way, this doesn’t even make the top twenty. It does irritate the hell out of me, though, and fuck me, does my tongue sting.
Expressionless, I step slowly and purposefully forward until I’m close enough to smell her baby hooker perfume mixing with what she ate for lunch, and I lean in and spit in her face.
The room goes dead silent.
Hali jerks her head back and inhales sharply. Standing there with my bloody saliva running down her smooth cheek, she turns an ugly shade of angry red and looks like she might actually reach out and strangle me right here in front of everybody.
Hands grab my arms from behind, and Sunday yanks me out of throttling range, herding me quickly and silently toward the exit where Roxy and Aylie are waiting. She’s literally vibrating and shaking the entire way, and I can’t figure out why, for the life of me. It’s like she’s angry at me, but every time I try to ask her, all she does is shush me coldly under her breath.
Behind us, Raff, Payne, and Heller form a wall, smiling jovially at a seething but still motionless Hali like nothing ever happened, preventing her from following me out should she regain her faculties anytime soon.
As I’m tugged past Poe, his arms crossed over his chest and his back leaning casually against the cafeteria door frame, he gives me a look of aggravation, tempered by a strange glimmer of something I can’t put my finger on. Choosing not to dwell on whatever his problem with me is right now, I let the girls steer me to the nearest restroom to get cleaned up and inspect the damage done to my tongue.
Aylie throws open the restroom door so that the other two can push me through. Once inside, she pulls it closed behind us and plants herself in front of it like a cute little auburn-haired sentry. Yanking my arms free, I turn and face all three of them.
“What the hell, guys?” I throw my hands in the air incredulously. “You’re not talking to me now? Are you mad at me? You know I had to do something, right? I couldn’t just let her get away with tripping me like that!” The pressure in the back of my throat tells me tears are imminent, but instead of being born out of frustration, these come from a deeper place. A place I can’t believe these girls have already started to wheedle their way into.
Sunday’s face cracks like an egg, and she practically screams with laughter. Roxy adds her high-pitched squeal to the mix. I stand open-mouthed, staring at the two of them like they just grew extra heads. Swinging my eyes over to where Aylie still stands guarding the door, I see she’s grinning and giggling too.
“That was the best fucking thing ever!” Managing to suck in a breath through her laughter, Sunday high fives Roxy and comes over to throw her arms around me. “Like ever, ever.”
“Seriously, Stella, even though Hali has deserved that and more for a long-ass time, nobody would ever dare do what you just did. She’s a heinous bitch if you cross her.” Roxy
shoves Sunday out of the way and hugs me. “That was truly beautiful—Miss Bitchface California standing in the middle of the cafeteria with bloody spit running down her face!” Roxy’s words set both her and Sunday off into peals of laughter again, and I grin crookedly in return.
“Sorry you thought we were mad, Stell,” Aylie offers, the petite redhead coming over to join us and patting my forearm, “we just wanted to get you away from there before she lost her shit and did something truly terrible, or before a teacher showed up and dragged you away to the headmistress.” That’s twice that she’s made reference to something ominous being done by Hali.
What could she possibly have done?
Dismissing it for now, I rinse my mouth at the sink and see my tongue is still in one piece and has stopped bleeding. Turning to look at the others, part of me that has been empty for so long fills with the glow of friendship being offered.
All of a sudden, the restroom door slams open, connecting solidly with the wall behind it and making us all jump. Expecting to see Hali, ready to stab me in the face with her lunch fork, I’m utterly shocked when Poe strides angrily into the room.
“Ladies,” he growls. “Out. Now.” He locks his predatory gaze with mine. “Not you, Bradleigh. You stay.”
“Dude, you know this is the girls’ restroom, right?” Sunday follows her question with a pointed look at Poe’s crotch.
“I’m aware. I also don’t care. Need to have a few words with your girl here.” He’s maintained a laser focus on me since walking in the room, almost daring me to be the first to look away. Which, of course, there is no way I’m doing.
“It’s okay, Sunday. You guys go, and I’ll meet you in class.” I reassure them without averting my eyes, and they reluctantly make their way out into the hall, wanting to give me privacy but also desperately curious to know what’s going on.
Fragile Things (Folkestone Sins Book 1) Page 6