Page 4 of Break You

“Oh, did my designer pump happen to accidentally get in your way just as you walked past? My bad. Though if you weren’t carrying that huge tray to serve us all, maybe you’d have been able to see where you were going.”

Angry Girl said nothing, instead, as a wave of laughter rippled through the small crowd that had gathered at the sound of her hitting the deck, she scrambled to her feet, hurriedly scooping the splattered canapés back onto the tray. Rather than engaging with Cherie or anyone, she focused on what she was doing, but I could feel the fury radiating from her like flames from an open fireplace. Anyone who got too close was bound to get burned.

Cherie didn’t seem to share my powers of observation, deciding to carry on poking the bear.

“Hey, wait a minute. I thought I recognized you from somewhere. Aren’t you in my ethics class? Yeah, that’s right, isn’t it?” It was a rhetorical question, and Cherie didn’t wait for an answer. “Now, I’m no expert, but I was under the impression that you scholarship—” she spat the word out as though it was burning her tongue, “—kids weren’t supposed to work during the semester. In fact, I seem to recall that our parents contribute to a stipend fund so that you don’t have to work at all, and can concentrate on your studies twenty-four seven. Because Lord knows you project kids need all the help you can get, right?” The timbre of her voice cut through all the other noise in the room, and it grated on my nerves more than it ever had.

“Hmm… it would be a crying shame if the college administration was to find out about your little moonlighting gig, wouldn’t it? I can’t imagine they’d take very kindly to someone flouting the rules so brazenly. Someone they were trying to help…”

Her threat was clear, but it seemed that our ‘friendly’ neighborhood scholarship recipient was hit with a sudden case of selective deafness, or she had a lot more self-restraint than I would have given her credit for, based on her earlier outburst at the bathroom. Judging by the way she began slamming canapés on the tray quicker and harder, but still resolutely refused to look up at Cherie, the latter was true.

Interesting.

“Oh, my goodness. Excuse me. Excuse me. I’m sorry, excuse me.” An officious-looking woman with a severe bun and a cheap and badly fitting suit, who I’d seen barking orders to waitstaff at several points during the night, bustled her way through the gathering until she had a clear line of sight of Angry Girl.

“Oh, Rocky. It’s you. I should have known.” I wondered what she meant by that. “I’m sorry for Rukiya’s clumsiness, everyone. She’s currently suffering from menstrual complications.”

What had previously been a restrained ripple of laughter turned into an outright tidal wave, and again without seeing her face, I knew ‘Rocky’ was fuming. Her body stiffened as she continued to robotically clean up the mess as the supervisor crouched down in front of her to do the same. Moments later they both stood up, Angry Girl clutching the tray, and the supervisor looking at the waitress as though she was something that had been brought into the room on the bottom of someone’s handmade brogue.

“Apologies again, everyone.” She spoke between gritted teeth, still looking at Angry Girl as though she wanted to kill her with her bare hands. “Please, do be careful where you tread, and I’ll have one of our janitorial staff clean up this mess immediately.”

She seemed to have failed to notice that most people had already wandered off in search of another drink or whatever other pleasure took their fancy. Nobody gave a fuck about a few dropped canapés, except Cherie, of course, who was still looking daggers at Rocky.

As the badly suited manager stomped across the room, Rocky leaned forward and spoke directly into Cherie’s ear, just loud enough for the two of us to hear.

“Oh yeah, I think maybe I do know who you are. It took me a while, but it was kind of difficult to recognize you when all I had to go by before was your ass while you were bent over the cistern in the disabled bathroom. But, I definitely think I can place you now. You’re that chick with the terrible sweaters and even worse grades, who’s been sucking off Dr. Jennings to make sure you pass the class, right?”

Cherie spluttered and turned a not very flattering shade of beet red, that clashed with her crimson lipstick, while Rocky strode away with her back straight and her head held high, though not before locking gazes with me, and giving me the death stare to end all death stares. She didn’t just throw shade; it was a lunar fucking eclipse.

As Rocky made her way across the room, I turned to Cherie. “BRB, I just need to take care of some shit with the guys. Here, have another drink…” I swiped a glass of vintage pink champagne from a nearby server and all-but shoved it at her. “…and go hang with Heaven. This won’t take long.” I pointed her in the direction of her best friend and gave her the tiniest nudge, sending her tottering toward the statuesque blonde.

Turning on my heel, I scanned the space, quickly finding what, or whom I was looking for, and strode across the room. I tapped Rocky on the shoulder, enjoying watching the confusion wash over her features, while she fought to school her expression into some semblance of neutrality.

I plastered a fake look of concern on my face and bent down to bring my lips so close to her ear, my breath would have been heating her skin, and fought the inexplicable yet intense desire to lick, suck, kiss or bite the soft flesh of her neck.

“Keep playing with fire, Angry Girl, and you will get burned. One more stunt like the one you just pulled, and you can kiss your scholarship goodbye.”

“Oh really?” She spoke through gritted teeth, no doubt with an equally fake look on her face. “Be my fucking guest. I’m not scared of you.” Her voice had the confident tone of someone who really didn’t give a damn.

“Well, you should be. You clearly have no idea who the fuck you’re dealing with.”

“Or maybe I just have nothing to lose.”

“Everyone has something to lose, so hold your tongue, and watch your step.”

“Or else what? Are you threatening me?”

“Ha! No,” I deadpanned. “Trust me when I say I don’t make threats, I make promises.”

“And trust me when I say choke on a bag of fetid dicks, Loaded Boy.” Fetid? Who the fuck dropped Middle English at a time like this? Or any time, for that matter? “And as much as I’d really love—” Clearly Cherie wasn’t the only one who could rock the sarcastic vibe, “—to stay and carry on with this most engaging round of verbal foreplay, I need to go and put this tray down before I ‘accidentally’ drop it all over you. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She carried on walking toward the serving area, even more proudly than before.

I stood stunned for a minute, trying to work out what the fuck just went down, when Drew sauntered up to me, smiling widely.

“You wanna tell me what all that was all about?”

“All what?”

“Really? That’s how you’re going to play it? Normally you’re inscrutable, but I could read you like a book from the other side of the room just now. The chemistry was off the charts. There was so much heat, I could have fried an egg in the air between the two of you. As it is, I got a boner just watching.”

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