The young cheerleader I fought to keep shakes her head and rolls her eyes to the side, and my resolve disappears. My hand flies up before my brain can compute what it’s doing, and I swear I feel the sting on my palm before I realize I’ve slapped my teammate across the face.
“Peyton Johnson, get your ass in here now!” Coach’s voice echoes throughout the empty gym, and my slap seems to have stunned everyone else silent. It’s eerily quiet, the only sound the gasp Stephanie makes as she holds her face, her eyes welled up with tears.
Regret fills my chest, and I take a deep breath, my lips parting as I utter, “I’m—” But I stop short. Because I’m not sorry. I hate that I caused a shitstorm for our coach. I hate that I probably made a nightmare for my dad to deal with. But that slap? I’m glad I did it.
I don’t know what that says about me. Maybe all of those stories my mom told me about being bullied when she was inhigh school have finally had their just dues through this act. I’m taking out all bullies for the both of us. Okay, well . . .onebully.
My eyes meet Lexi’s, then Tasha’s, and my friends both look shocked. Funny, a part of me sort of expects Tasha to high five me, but she looks pretty freaked out.
Oh God! I’ve freaked out.
I pivot and march straight into Coach Nelson’s office, where she slams the door shut behind me. I brace myself.
“What the fuck, Peyton?”
“I know, I know,” I say, covering my face in my hands. I fall into a chair, tears sliding down my hot cheeks.
I hear her sigh so I pull my hands away to find her sitting on the edge of her desk, her arms crossed over her chest. Her head leans to one side, and she doesn’t look mad. She’s definitely not happy, though.
“I just couldn’t take it. Sometimes, it’s hard. Being me is hard,” I admit.
She goes to speak but snaps her mouth shut and instead exhales. She reaches to her side and grabs a tissue for me. I take it and dry my face as best I can, then wad the tissue into a tight ball with my hands in my lap, staring at it.
“Everyone assumes I get to be on the float because my dad is Reed Johnson. I’m the captain because my dad is Reed Johnson. I won homecoming princess last year because . . .” I look up and meet her gaze, shrugging as I shake my head.
“So what?” she says.
A breathy laugh leaves my lips.
“I know sometimes that’s true. My dad’s influence opens doors. I know I’m privileged, and I appreciate it, even when I’m embarrassed by it. But sometimes . . . sometimes I really think I earn shit on my own, you know? Sorry for theSword.”
She chuckles and moves to take the seat next to me.
“Tell me the truth,” I say, looking her directly in the eyes. “Did Principal Erikson ask you to pull me from the float?”
She breathes in and leans back.
“I thought so?—”
“Peyton, your dad actually asked us to. He was worried about you taking the heat of the rivalry, and?—”
I stand up, my body struck with a new sensation. Is this poison? I think I feel poisoned. I step around her desk, the sudden urge to pace taking over my legs.
“Peyton, he was coming from a good place. And really, it’s just a float. I agree that it’s an unnecessary risk to you. I can’t afford to lose you because some idiot decides to do something stupid.”
I suck in my top lip and hold in the new round of betrayal boiling inside me. I nod, but all I want to do is get out of here. To run away.
“I’ll apologize to Stephanie. And I’ll sit out next week or take detention. Whatever it is?—”
“Peyton, I have to suspend you,” she says through a sigh.
I nod, the tears threatening to come again.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
I nod and suck my lip in tighter.
“I don’t want to. And I’m sure when I interview the girls and Jordan, Stephanie’s role in this will be clear.”