Page 43 of King

Another girl gives Coach Roberts a sweet smile. “We don’t know anything Coach.”

I reach around Coach, my teeth gritting together. “Give me your fucking phone!”

“Rowland!” Coach gives me a stern look. “Language.”

“Coach Roberts,” I try to steady the shakiness in my voice. I’m cold. Angry. Humiliated again. “I don’t have my clothes and they’re responsible. I put it in that locker and now it's magically gone."

She flutters her eyelashes and Coach Roberts huffs. “Get moving ladies.” The girls smile and giggle, moving over to their respective lockers. I stand in the middle of the room in my underwear watching as Coach Roberts moves to a large locker. After she unlocks it, she tosses me a green ERA hoodie. “You too Rowland.”

I look at her in awe, but she turns around before I pull the sweater over my head. It’s warm and I’m at least grateful for that, but the teachers at this school are as bad as the students. Complacent, with no concern for a girl from The Grove. I guess even private schools can’t hire teachers who care.

After class, I head straight to my locker, without my uniform. I'll text Holly I need a new one and hope she doesn't tell the Archibalds.

I’m ready to grab my backpack and get the fuck out of here for the weekend when I hear the sound of Lea’s voice. It’s coming from our Algebra class and I can’t wait to give her a piece of my mind.

The door’s locked and before I can peek through the window I hear the rumble of Mr. Trout’s voice. They must be on the other side of the door because I can hear them but I can’t see them.

“Sssh,” Trout’s voice is a whisper but with my ear pressed against the door I can make it out. “Someone will hear us.”

“Jo?” Christian is at the end of the hallway when I turn around. He has a smirk on his face and it makes me even madder at him. "What happened to you?”

"Listen." My jaw clenches as I fight the charm in his gem-like eyes. “Until you tell your friends to stop making my life a living hell, do me a favour and fuck right off.”

The final bell of the day chimes and students start pouring out into the halls.

That bell marks my freedom. At least for a couple of days.

Willow and I spend all Friday and Saturday holed up in our bedrooms. The space is bigger than we’d ever had so it feels like a mini-vacation from everything.

By Saturday night, bags of chips, boxes of Oreos and candy wrappers lay around our room. My sister and I sprawl out on our combined mattresses on the floor of my room, fluffy blankets from our beds on top.

“So how goes your friendship with Eden’s elite?” Bringing a Dorito to my mouth I glance at her, Mean Girls running in the background.

Willow shrugs, chewing on a Twizzler. “Better than yours. Bella has my back.” Her hair looks shinier these days. She's also swapped her gold studs for classic Chanel earrings. “Actually, can I go to her sleepover on Tuesday? I already asked Nancy.”

“You did?”

She glances at me then back at the screen. “Yeah, but, I won’t go if it makes things weird between us.”

“No!” I pull her close, swallowing the urge to be blunt. I want to tell her not to go but Willow has her own life to live. Just because I’m a social outcast doesn’t mean she has to be. She deserves to have some fun. And a social life. “Of course it won’t make things weird. You go. Have fun. I have work that night anyway.”

She smiles. A big one and I hate it and love it at the same time. Then she turns to look at me. “Do you like Damien?”

I almost choke on the glob of chips in my throat. “What?”

“People at school say you slept with him at his party.” She bites her lip as if she’s nervous to ask. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We did not sleep together. He made that up to be a cock.” I don’t realize how tight I’m gripping the bag until I hear it crinkle.

“Oh.” Her eyebrows fall and I return my attention to Regina George before she asks, “So...you don’t like him?”

My cheeks burn at the thought of his hands on my skin. His lips on mine. “No. Damien King is an asshole.”

“You sure? ‘Cause you’re doing that thing you do with your leg when you’re lying.” She gives me a sly smile. I stop shaking my foot and toss a skittle right in the middle of her head. “Hey!”

“We don’t say that name in this house.”

She laughs and turns her attention back to the screen.

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