Page 70 of Gift from the Tree

“Hopefully, that’ll calm it down. I feel like killing something every time I see you cry,” he says seriously.

“Well, please don’t go off on any murder sprees. Something seems to make me cry every few hours today.” I snicker at his dramatics. He’d never do such a thing.

“Well, no more of that. Last class of the day and then we get to go home and chill,” he comments like he’s counting down the minutes. I’m not going to explain my doctor’s visit right now as we walk into the huge training gym toward the changing rooms. I’ll tell him when he sees Gaster here to get me.

It’s easy enough to find my locker in the female changing room since there are not many females in this class and all my name says is Willow. It never really came up, so I never bothered telling them my last name was Abott-Griffin. One, it sounds stupid as fuck, and two, I don’t want to claim those last names at all, one maiden the other married. Fuck them both. I’d rather just stay Willow.

The design of these lockers has Corentin’s name written all over them, everything thought out, from sports bra to shoes, and they’re organized to perfection. They have two shelves, perfectly separated and labeled by combat or E.F. training. Grabbing the clothes, I make my way over to the showers with doors that close so I can change, but as I pull open the first one available someone slams it shut.

“What the fuck?” I snap, whirling on whoever did it.

“Who the fuck are you?” that girl from yesterday who was all over Corentin screeches. Her dark black hair is pulled up in a high ponytail that swishes back and forth like a horse’s tail with every head bob.

“Willow,” I answer in a sweet, mocking tone.

“I couldn’t give a fuck about your name. Who are you and why have you been hanging around the Vito Nexus?” she questions, her shit brown eyes narrowing on me.

“The who?” I ask, giving her my best lost, doe-eyed look. I don’t know why she thinks talking to me like this will get her anything. I’d just play dumb on purpose and piss her off. Fuck her. I can’t stand a mean girl.

“Don’t play stupid with me. I saw you leave Corentin’s office earlier and I just saw Draken walk you here. Stay the fuck away from them.”

“Are you stalking me?” Why does this bitch know where I was today?

“No one is stalking a nobody like you, but they’re claimed and I won’t have some attention-seeking whore coming after what’s rightfully mine.” She crosses her arms and lifts her chin a little like she’s queen fucking bee.

“Yours?” I snort. None of the guys have made any mention of this girl, and Draken most certainly doesn’t act like he has a girlfriend.

“Yeah, Gima’s the strongest female student, and she’s only a third year. She’s going to be a strong match for their power scale. And she and Corentin are already together,” one of Gima’s little entourage speaks proudly on her behalf.

“Okay, well, good luck with that, Gina.” I roll my eyes and reach for the door again.

“It’s Gima. And I’m only warning you one more time. Stay the fuck away from my men.” She shoulder-checks me as she walks by, her little band of followers trailing behind her.

“Crazy bitch,” I mutter to myself as I finally step in the shower to change. I hated mean girls when I was in high school, and they’re no fucking better now. Only now, they have magical powers.

Leaving the changing room dressed in the assigned uniform, I see Draken leaning against the wall, Gima perched right in front of him, doing that same hair twirling shit she did yesterday. When she goes to run her hand down his arm, he flicks it away like a pesky bug and I can’t help the snort that escapes me. The noise catches his attention, and he pushes off the wall, making Gima take a few clumsy steps back. When her eyes meet mine, they’re full of malice and a promise of revenge.

Great. Now I have the popular girl hating me. Figures.

As soon as Draken’s close enough, I ask, “What’s the deal with that girl? She cornered me in the changing room just now, telling me to stay the fuck away from what’s hers, referring to you and your brothers?”

“Who, Jenna?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“Gima.” I laugh at him fucking her name up. I don’t know if he did it on purpose or not, but it seems she isn’t so important to him as she may think.

“Yeah, whatever. She’s crazy in love with Corentin over a one-night drunk hookup and has been trying to stake a claim ever since.”

Huh, so there is history with her and Corentin.

“So, they aren’t together?” I can’t help but ask.

“Fuck no, and Corentin’s told her plenty of times and in many ways nicely, but she isn’t taking no for an answer. He’s obviously going to have to be an asshole about it to get his point across,” Draken explains with a shrug.

So she’s a crazy stalker bitch. Good to know.

“Gather around,” a loud, rough voice shouts across the gym.

The herd of us moves to group around who I assume is the instructor and wait for his instructions. He’s a mean-looking man with a serious “don’t fuck with me” vibe going on. He’s also massive, not as big as Tillman, but pretty damn close, with short, shaved black hair.

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