Page 211 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

I sigh, reach up, and cringe inwardly when I touch a cold spitball lodged in my hair.

One of many, it turns out. I stay behind, picking the offending gobs from my hair, staring at everyone who walks past in an effort to narrow down my suspects.

And then one of Briar’s friends, dark hair and dark eyes, the one who’d been sitting beside him at lunch, saunters past wearing a big, fake grin.

When I scowl at him, he begins tonguing his cheek in imitation of an obviously squint girl giving a sideways blowjob.

I throw him the finger, but that just makes him and everyone around him burst out laughing. By the time I get all the spitballs from my hair, all I want to do is go home and crash.

I drag myself to my junker and sit in the driver’s seat, counting up all my fuck-ups for the day. A sharp rap to my window startles me out of the exhaustive list.

Addy’s standing by my window, head cocked as if impatient for me to roll down the window.

“Hi,” I say sheepishly, giving her a weak smile.

She leans her elbows on the window ledge. “Tomorrow will be better.”

I squint up at her. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Her smile is a touch nostalgic. “Because I was once the new girl. I know how much it sucks. It helps having someone on your side.”

“Jessica?” I venture, my mouth pulling to the side.

Addy nods, and gives me a sad smile. Then she reaches into the car and squeezes my shoulder. “But I also know it gets better.”

When I look up at her, her smile is warm and friendly. “Just take it one day at a time, and you’ll do fine.”

I have an overwhelming urge to tell her about the woods, but I can already feel she wants to change the subject away from Jess. This is the worst time to mention anything about what happened between me and Briar.

Instead of making an ass of myself and getting Addy all worked up, I could try being her friend.

So I smile at her, and I let her think that her words are all the encouragement I need to make it through the day.

I guess she’s right, in a way. I’ll just take it one day at a time. When I close my eyes at night, I’ll be cleaning the slate.

Tomorrow will be a new day, right, Mom?

Chapter Nine

Briar

I pull up to Briar Mansion, Marcus following close behind in his big-ass SUV. We had football practice until five in preparation for a game happening this weekend—the last before we hit finals. I’m physically drained, but mentally my brain feels like it’s fizzing.

Sports always had a way to get me hyped up, especially football. No one cares how aggressive you get out there, long as you don’t cross the line. Surprisingly, it’s easier for me to do that on the field than in real life.

I guess that’s mainly due to Coach Carter. Because fuck knows, that man’s dressed me down until I was shaking with fury.

In real life, it’s so much easier to get away with shit.

No witnesses? No crime.

Marcus jogs up to me, and then falls in line, his backpack over one shoulder, and two six-packs dangling from the fingertips of his other hand.

He’s tall and thin and runs like a fucking Olympic athlete, but he doesn’t have the muscle to take down the bigger guys. We make a good team and coach knows it.

Marcus ruffles his short, dark hair and gives me a sheepish grin. “Gonna fucking feel this tomorrow,” he says, shrugging his shoulders and wincing.

“You say that now, but wait till the only action you get is walking the stairs at Prep.” Marcus loves letting off steam as much as I do, and I saw him on the field today—he was giving as good as he got.

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