Page 6 of Spite

My thoughts vanished the moment I spotted the one sitting on his left. Another boy who was more like a man, handsome in a way that warmed my lower gut. Wavy brown hair, sparkling green eyes that seemed lively, even though he was so far from me. He wasn’t as muscular as Christian, but he was manly all the same, even in his Batman t-shirt.

Alec Perry. Victim number two.

Good, that just left Xander to find.

Georgia followed the trail of my gaze, and she let out a sigh when she saw who I was staring at. “Tell me you don’t like those guys. Alec is okay, but Christian is a douche.”

“I’m not exactly a new transfer,” I finally said, moving my gaze back to her. “I was here from kindergarten to the middle of sixth grade. They were both in my class.” I pursed my lips, fighting the memories that were trying to swim their way to the surface of my mind. “I wonder if they remember me.”

No, I knew they did. What I wondered was if they knew how badly they’d broken me.

Georgia let out a sound of disbelief. “I’d say so. Looks like Alec is coming over here.” Her posture went rigid, as if it was the last thing she wanted.

My gaze moved past her, and indeed, Alec was headed to our table. He was at least five foot nine, tall and sinewy. When he slid into the seat beside me, I couldn’t help but smell the musky scent he radiated.

Approaching me so soon? I hadn’t expected it, but I’d roll with it.

“Wow,” Alec spoke, sounding, strangely, amazed at my presence. “It really is you. When Christian said you were back, I didn’t believe him.” Ah, so I was the talk of the school, was I? Good. At least I was making some impression.

“Yep,” I said. “I’m here to stay.” Mostly because I had nowhere else to go, but he didn’t need to know that.

Alec glanced to Georgia before landing those pretty green eyes on me. The color of emeralds. It took every ounce of willpower to fight the feeling those eyes rose inside of me. Hell, I wanted to be just like any other hormonal teenage girl and throw myself at him. Run my hands down his chest and feel his toned muscles underneath my fingertips. But I wouldn’t. Not yet. Not unless it was a part of his punishment.

“How are you?” Alec asked, a certain heaviness to his tone.

I stared at him. “I’m…fine?” Fuck. I didn’t sound sure, did I? I blamed him, this encounter, something I wasn’t prepared for. Plus, he seemed too nice. Almost as if he truly cared about whether or not I was fine—something the Alec from sixth grade would never have been.

It was a moment before Alec said, “Good.” He glanced between Georgia and me, lingering on me, finally realizing the skintight outfit I wore. “I’ll…I’ll see you around.” And then he got up and returned to Christian’s table. Both Georgia and I watched him go with confused expressions on our faces.

Christian, on the other hand, looked positively enraged when Alec sat beside him. He withdrew his arm from the girl and leaned toward Alec, fuming. Oh, what I would give to hear what he was saying. Was he yelling at Alec for coming over to me? Or was he trying to see if Alec had gotten any new dirt on me?

“That was…” Georgia broke the silence of our table. “Weird. That was very weird.” She looked at me, as if appraising me in a new light. “What exactly happened six years ago?”

All I did was smile at her and say, “That is a long and complicated story. Let’s finish the Poe project, and if you’re not sick of me by then, I’ll tell you.” I wasn’t ashamed of what happened all those years ago; what was the point? It was the past. There was nothing I could do to change it. It was what it was, and I had the scars to prove it beneath my sleeves.

It seemed to placate her, and I spent the remainder of the lunch period trying my best not to stare at Christian’s table. What game was Alec playing at? I’d wonder it all day.

When the bell rang and the other kids filed out of the cafeteria, I went to my locker and got a fresh notebook for chemistry. The science halls were upstairs, and as I made my way up, there was no way to steel myself for what was to come.

Christian and Alec were in my chemistry class…as was Christian’s girlfriend, who I learned was named Jessie. After Mr. Burns—an older, bald, thin man who probably wore the same moss green pants day after day—introduced me to the class, he told me to get with a pair of students. I could've chosen Christian and Alec, but instead I found myself gravitating toward Christian’s girlfriend and some other girl.

“Hi,” I spoke, pulling a chair to their table. These tables were made for pairs, but every other table was already full. It was a toss up either way, no matter which table I would’ve gone with.

“I’m Jessie,” she introduced herself with a flip of her long, blonde hair. “And she’s Sarah.” She spoke for the girl beside her, with brown hair and pink-dyed ends. A smile danced across her face, and I couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not.

My guess was not, since she was currently dating Christian.

Turned out, the girls were talkative. They wanted to know all about me. I picked and chose what I told them, figuring Christian would at least fill Jessie in on the rest. I didn’t recognize her from my sixth grade class, so I assumed she’d come from another one. As we did the equations Mr. Burns flashed across the whiteboard, I found their eagerness startling and kind of fun.

Fun, mostly because across the room, Christian was watching us, making no effort to hide his stares. Beside him, Alec stared at me, too, but I didn’t get the same hatred from him that seemed to ebb and flow from his friend.

I wondered if I could not only break up Christian’s relationship, but also break up his friendship. Leaving Christian with nothing, absolutely nothing to his name, sounded like music to my ears. Alas, it meant I had to be nice to Alec too, before I pulled the rug out from under him.

One thing at a time.

Mr. Burns let us take the last five minutes of class to clean and pack up. As Sarah went to put away the dry erase board we’d been using for the formulas and equations, Jessie offered me her notebook. “Here,” she said. “You can give it back to me tomorrow. We have a test over all of this stuff next week.”

I couldn’t tell if she was really being nice to me, or if this was all some kind of game. After my childhood, it was hard for me to trust anyone. Instead of fighting her on it, I simply smiled and said, “Thank you.”

---