Page 213 of Filthy Elites

I wasn’t really sorry she wasn’t getting her way for once in her whole life, but I flashed her sympathetic eyes and lied like any good retail worker would have. “I’m really sorry.”

She snatched her blouse off the counter. “You will be.”

Anae tossed her hair and turned around, dismissing me and storming away in one fluid motion, her two minions right on her undoubtedly expensive heels.

I sighed, knowing she’s exactly the type of person who would call my boss and try to get me in trouble even though I did nothing wrong.

“I love my job,” I muttered sarcastically to myself.

The next woman in line smiled sympathetically as she placed her items on the counter.

“Did you find everything you were looking for today?” I asked her cheerfully.

“Yes, thank you.”

Her manners felt nice after Mean Girl Barbie lashed out over nothing.

As the sane customer thanked me and started toward the door with her shopping bag, I decided to text my boss. I needed to tell her what had happened so I could get ahead of it. If I waited until after Anae called with her version of the story, it would be harder to feasibly explain mine. I mean, aside from the seriously unhinged, who would actually try to get a person in trouble for not refunding a top that wasn’t purchased at our store?

But when people do shit that crazy and you have to try to respond to it, more often than not, you come off looking like the crazy one.

ONE

Aubrey

It’sdays later at school when one of Satan’s little helpers approaches me.

I’m standing in the cafeteria line. I blink a few times when I realize the girl who stopped in front of me isn’t just waiting for a crowd to ease so she can sneak past—she approached me on purpose and is waiting for me to look at her.

So I do. We’ve never spoken, but I know her name is Mallory Cantrell. She’s pretty, her curly hair tied up in a high pony, her Easter green top showcasing her cleavage even though it’s against the school dress code.

“Hey. Aubrey, right?”

Cautious, I nod.

She smiles, her straight white teeth standing out against her dark complexion. “I thought so. I’m Mallory.”

“I know.”

“Right.” She doesn’t pretend to be surprised that I’m sure of her name, but she wasn’t sure of mine. “We met at the store the other day. Kind of. I was there with Anae.”

The line moves ahead of me so I take a step forward.

She moves with me. “Anyway, I wanted to say sorry about her whole demonstration of psycho bitchiness.”

I crack a smile since she’s being nice. If I were in her shoes, I’d be embarrassed, too. Of course, if I were in her shoes, I would have said something at the store when my friend was in desperate need of a Snickers. “It’s okay, not your fault.”

“She’s really used to getting her way, so when she doesn’t, she has no clue how to deal with it.”

“Her parents clearly haven’t done the world any favors there.”

Mallory smiles, dropping her gaze. “Yeah, so I thought I’d extend an olive branch. Tomorrow night, we’re all meeting up at Anae’s boyfriend’s house for a party. You should come. Bring a friend. It’ll be fun. There will be drinks and pizza and lots of cool people. He has a killer pool, so bring a bikini.”

That’s definitely not going to happen, but just in case Mallory also isn’t accustomed to being told no, I flash her a smile. “Thanks. I’ll see if I’m free, maybe I’ll stop by.”

She blinks. “Oh.” Momentarily lost for words, she looks around as if for some cue from a stage manager on what she’s supposed to do next. Poor thing, she’s a marionette with no puppet master.

“Was there something else?” I ask.

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