Page 5 of Toxic Hope
“I can’t fucking believe it,” Easton whispers. No big surprise, the two of us being on the same page. The blonde sits at an empty table in the corner—she doesn’t look around, but instead keeps her head down, opening a book right away while a sandwich sits untouched on her tray.
“What are the chances, do you think?” I ask, but he only shrugs. It’s a rhetorical question, anyway. What are the chances of her going to this school? Walking into the cafeteria at the exact time we’re sitting here with our friends?
“Looks like somebody’s interested in the new girl.” Maya snickers and wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “You should invite her over to sit with us so she doesn’t have to be alone.”
“No,” we both bark. It’s not the first time we’ve spoken in unison—one of those twin things neither of us can explain.
“Wow.” Elliana, Carter’s girlfriend, winces before laughing softly. “What did she do to you guys?”
Rather than answer her, I meet Carter’s gaze and give him a slight nod. His eyes go wide before he turns to look at the girl sitting alone. “You’re serious? That’s her?”
“Her who?” Maya asks.
“Just somebody we ran into yesterday,” Easton tells her. He is quicker than I am when it comes to shit like this; finding the right thing to say when he’s put on the spot. I usually need a little more time to get my thoughts together.
Right now, there’s only one direction my thoughts want me to go in. “I wanna talk to her,” I mutter to Easton while the conversation around us turns toward what we’re going to do this coming weekend.
“You think that’s a good idea?” he asks. He hasn’t looked away from her since she walked in. I can feel his anger, almostrolling off him in one wave after another—I can definitely relate, too.
“Fuck, yes,” I hiss. “Think about it. She’s the only person who witnessed what happened. If she knew why we did it, she could…”
“What? Go back and say she was wrong about what she thought she saw?” The way he smirks tells me what he thinks of that idea. There are times I would like to make it so we don’t look so much alike, since I can’t stand when he gets that know-it-all attitude with me. A broken-then-reset nose might be what helps people tell us apart.
“It can’t hurt,” I tell him. “What happens if the cops find out who she is and question her? Or what if Brody decides he wants to press charges, anyway? It’s Sarah’s word against his—and it’s our word against this girl’s.”
The idea of that bastard lying about what he did to my sister makes flipping this table seem like a good idea, but it’s the girl in pearls I need to be worried about now. “She doesn’t have to lie, but she could… I don’t know, soften it up a little. You know right now, if anybody questioned her, she would make us out to be a couple of monsters.” I can see her in my head, putting on that fake, brave act when it was so obvious she was shaking like a leaf and probably asking herself why she got involved. I would like to know the answer to that question myself.
Which is why I stand without giving it any more thought. Carter makes a choking sound and moves like he’s going to get up, too, but Easton shakes his head firmly before following me away from the table to where the blonde sits with her pearl necklace and her book. How fucking pretentious can a person be? Wearing pearls on a random Wednesday, like she’s special or something. Probably sitting alone because she thinks she’s too good to sit with anybody else. Feeling superior over the good she believes she did last night. If she only fucking knew.
She’s about to find out.
The cafeteria noise fades until it’s nothing but a faint buzzing in my head. She’s completely oblivious, not even looking up from her book until we’re standing directly in front of her.
It takes a second for recognition to click and her gold-flecked hazel eyes to go wide. “Wait a second,” she whispers before sitting up straighter while her gaze darts between us.
“For what?” I drop into an empty chair, and Easton does the same next to me. “You got us in a lot of trouble last night,” I tell her, remembering the way she tried to stare us down while Brody gasped for air and whimpered like the little bitch he is.
“I hate to disagree, but you’re the ones who got yourselves into trouble last night, not me.”
This smart-mouthed little bitch. She still doesn’t get it. “Did you ever stop to think there might’ve been a reason for it?” Easton asks while I seethe.
“Did you ever stop to think I don’t care? I’m sure you had your reasons,” she adds while my mouth falls open, “but it wasn’t fair, and I wasn’t going to stand back and let it happen.”
She folds her thin arms the way she did last night, then arches an eyebrow. “I’d say I was sorry your little intimidation tactic isn’t working, but I’m not sorry.”
This fucking bitch. My blood is on the verge of turning into lava by the time I blurt out, “So you really don’t give a shit why the asshole was getting his ass kicked? What if he just killed somebody?”
“But he didn’t, did he? Or maybe you would’ve said that when I found you instead of threatening me. But no.” She snickers. “You were the big, scary guys who had to put me in my place. Well, joke’s on you, isn’t it? I’m surprised you’re not in jail right now after what you did. They actually let people walk around free after beating somebody half to death?”
“Oh, be a little more dramatic about it,” Easton mutters, which was exactly the wrong thing to say. It’s amazing we both don’t freeze solid when she hits us with an icy glare.
“I would say this has been fun, but it hasn’t.” All at once she gets up—she barely touched her food, I notice as she picks up her tray. “I’m not interested in why you did what you did, and if you think you’re going to intimidate me, you’re wasting your time.”
This is all wrong. It doesn’t have to be this way. “Would you just wait a minute?” I’m already halfway around the table by the time she pushes her chair back. “Would you just listen to us?”
Color floods her pale cheeks before she grits out, “I told you I’m not interested. Now get out of my way.”
“Let her go,” Easton mutters in a dark, flat voice. I should, too, I know it. There’s a voice in my head telling me to back off. It’s a voice I don’t pay attention to very much and usually end up wishing I had after I get my ass in trouble.
