Page 128 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

When I don’t move, she digs in my closet and pulls out a pair of gym shorts and a vest with the Cinderhart crest on it. “Uniform or gym clothes during school hours.”

I open my mouth, but she cuts me off with a shake of her head. “And no, the gym clothes are onlyif you’re actually doing sports.”

“Great.”

I go spit out the toothpaste, and come back to pull out a shirt, a dress, and a blazer. “Even the stockings?”

She twists her legs, staring down. “You get used to them.”

I make a face as I head for the bathroom. “Is there time for me to shower?”

“Yeah, sure, but don’t take your time.” She closes my closet and heads for her bed.

I drag my duffle bag into the bathroom with me. I don’t know why I bothered to pack anything. Juliet was right—the academy has everything I need. Shampoo, conditioner, shaving cream, disposable razors, fluffy white towels.

While I’m washing up, memories of my first ever visit to Cinderhart come back to haunt me. I’d worked so hard to forget…but all it took was seeing those three monsters for my carefully built walls to come crashing down. I look down at the scar on my leg. I’ve managed to ignore it for months. I made sure everything I wore since then covered it, but I have a feeling the dress might be a little too short. Maybe I can get the hem taken down.

It’s almost as if they planned it that way. But that’s impossible…right? They couldn’t have known I was going to study here.

I trace my finger over the S on my thigh, frowning.

I still don’t know who sponsored me or paid my tuition. Could it be one of them? Was this their way of keeping an eye onme? No, that’s ridiculous. If anything, they would want to forget I existed…Exactly like I was trying to forget them.

The dress fits pretty well, especially after I tighten the belt. I ladder the first pair of stockings I try to put on, and Romi looks up from a well-worn paperback when I storm back to my closet to get a fresh pair.

“You okay in there?”

“Damn stockings,” I mutter.

“Try filing your nails.”

I turn to glare at her, but she just snorts and carries on reading. Her book looks like one of those old bodice rippers from the eighties—there’s a guy with long black hair on the cover, and he’s desperately trying to undress or cover up the redhead swooning in front of him.

The second pair of stockings I get on without an issue. They feel...weird. Especially the garters just above my knee.

I look in the mirror, and do a little twist. I look kinda cute, actually. But I was right—the bottom half of the S peeks out from the hem of the black skirt

I find a pair of black mules like Romi’s in my closet. “So, uh, how did they know my shoe size?”

My roommate marks her place in the book with a finger and looks up at me. “When they went through your bag, duh.”

My cheeks heat up. “They went through my bags?”

Romi frowns. “How else would they know what size you were, or whether you were trying to sneak in drugs?”

“That’s an invasion of privacy.”

She quirks an eyebrow at me. “Guess what,sweetheart…you don’t have rights anymore.”

I roll my eyes at her as I slip on my new shoes. “Right, I’m ready.”

She glances up at me, and shakes her head. “No, you’re not. Hair has to be up. And you gotta file those nails.”

I thought she was joking about the nails. “What?”

“Hair up?—”

“God, yes, I heard you the first time.”

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