Page 23 of The Venom We Bleed

“Trash deserves trash, after all.” Someone laughs.

“Ew, what’s that smell? Is that the locker or is it just her?”

So, it begins. I inhale and then slowly close the locker without doing anything else. Turning away, I look down and grimace, toeing away a wad of what looks like used toilet paper. If I have to carry my books around every day, so fucking be it.

I get maybe two yards down the hallway when a girl steps in front of me. I recognize her instantly as one of the girls who’d been with Megan the first day. She’s tall and lanky with stick straight brassy hair and a nose ring. I contemplate just ripping out the piercing and seeing what happens. Hearing her scream in pain as I walk away would be like music to my ears, but I promised myself I would get through this school year flying under the radar.

I go to step around her only for her to move back into my path. I sigh. “Do you really want to do this?” I ask her, looking up as she crosses her arms and leans closer. “Really? After what happened last week with your friend?”

“If you make a mess, you should clean it up,” the girl says in response.

“Excuse me?” I arch a brow at her and she nods behind me.

I glance back, where there’s still a pile of trash and toilet paper sitting outside of my locker. “Maybe you’re not used to it since you used to have our parents clean up after you, but things are different now, bitch. Go clean up your mess.”

Slowly, I pivot to face her once more. “And what if I don’t?” I prompt.

Both of her eyes widen as if she hadn’t expected that response, but she quickly regains her confidence, scowling down at me. “Then maybe we’ll make you.”

“We?” The second the word slips out of my lips I feel both of my arms jerk behind my back. The books I’d been holding clatter to the floor and the lanky bitch kicks them away. Looking to either side, I spot the second girl from Megan’s little trio and another I don’t recognize. Just great.

My lips part, but before I can utter a single word, I’m dragged back down the hallway in the direction of my locker. Once there, the girls shove me, face first, into the row of brown metal doors and laugh.

“Now,” Lanky bitch says, pointing to the ground, “clean up your mess.”

I right myself and turn around. My backpack pokes into my spine, so I carefully slip my arms free and set it on the ground. I crack my neck to one side, lift my gaze, and glare at her. “No.”

One word. Full of hatred. Full of meaning. Full of my own internal desire for these people to fuck the hell off and leave me alone. Her face pinches and the amused confidence she’d had when she knew she was backed up by two others fades ever so slightly. What I don’t understand is how she could anticipate another reaction when she’d been witness to what happened in the cafeteria days before.

She steps forward, between her friends, and opens her mouth just as someone else appears around the corner. “Teachers are coming.” Lanky bitch scowls at her friend’s words and moves back automatically.

“Scared of being caught?” I taunt her.

Lanky bitch points her finger at me. “Don’t think this is over,” she snaps. “Your year at Silverwood Public is going to get fucking worse, bitch. We suggest you drop out now.”

I smile at her angry expression and wave as her friends look up and down the hallway. “See you in class,” I say pleasantly.

She scoffs and turns away, whipping her hair over her bony shoulder and strutting off as if she’s trying to pop a hip out ofjoint. My hand drops back to my side. I’m almost sad that our little fight was disrupted. As much as I’d like to not get into trouble with the administration again, I’m not going to sit back and let anyone think they can fuck me over. Not anymore.

I bend down, lift my bag, and swing it over my shoulder, almost clipping the girl who’d delivered the warning in the side. She jumps back and eyes me cautiously. Now that Lanky and Moody are both gone, the rest of the students have moved along and the hallway is quickly emptying. I give her a once over, noting the soft upturned tilt of her nose, her full cheeks with a smattering of freckles, and the golden blonde hair that cascades over her shoulders.

“The teachers aren’t actually coming,” she says quietly.

I pause and look back at her with a frown. Unsure of how else to answer, I arch a brow and offer, “Okay?”

She bites down on her lip and ducks her head. “Sorry, I just thought you should know that you don’t need to run or anything. They’re not coming—Lindsey and her friends won’t come back though.” She looks like a small animal with the way she avoids my gaze, but still, she doesn’t turn tail and run, so maybe there’s more of a core of steel in her than at first glance.

I tilt my head at her. “Am I supposed to thank you for saving me?”

Her head lifts again and light blue eyes widen up at me. “Oh no, that’s not what I meant—I just…” She drifts off and her shoulders sag. “Sorry, I’ll go now.”

The short blonde turns and strides off, her head and shoulders low as she moves. I find myself watching her with a mixture of rising frustration and confusion. With a huff, I turn and head in the opposite direction even knowing that it means I’ll be taking the long way to my next class. I don’t want to see her. Knowing she tried makes me suspicious, but her responseto my vitriol stirred guilt in me and Silverwood Public is no place for that shit.

Two periods later, a familiar figure drops down into the seat next to me in English Lit and leans over. “Heard you had a savior today.” Roquel’s curious tone only serves to aggravate the recently abated irritation.

I blow out a long breath. No matter what I do, I can't seem to get away from her. “I’m so not in the mood.”

If my tone is a warning, she ignores it. “Kinda sweet if you ask me. Madison Torres doesn’t talk to anyone anymore, not after last year. I think she felt bad for you because she knows how it feels to be the school outcast.”

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