Page 64 of Ruthless Rose

Chapter 35

The homecoming committee is scheduled to meet again this morning.

Fuck. My. Life.

I show up ten minutes early, before anyone else gets there. Mrs. Jayson looks surprised when she walks into the room. “Wow. Early bird today, huh?”

I give her a half-smile. “I was kind of hoping that you could give me my assignment since we’re doing decorations today, and I could get started.”

“I think we can make that happen, Daphne. No problem.” She picks up a piece of paper. “Looks like Alora has you tying the fishing line onto the stars that will hang from the ceiling. It’s something we can easily do in advance of the dance.” She gets up from her seat, grabs a box that appears to have about a thousand glittery cardboard stars inside it, then adds scissors and a hole punch to it. “Everything you need is in here. Get as many of those stars done as you can. Whatever you don’t finish today will have to be done next Saturday before the dance.”

“Got it. I’ll see how much I can do.”

Three hours later, I’m still stringing these damn stars and my fingers are about to go numb from tying knots in the fishing line. This kind of sucks, but I’d been relieved when Alora had shown up and quickly left the room with Danica and Farrah to do who knows what. I look up as Mrs. Jayson comes back into the room. “Hey, we’d like to experiment with how we’re going to hang these from the ceiling. How do you feel about getting up on a ladder?”

I shrug. I’m not the world’s most coordinated person, but I can handle it. “I guess I could take a look.”

“Good. Alora is in there. Why don’t you take all that with you and see what she wants to try. We have an extender pole and some sort of doodad that is supposed to stick them up under the edges of the drop ceiling panels.”

She wants me to get up on a ladder with Alora supervising? Holy crap. No, no, and no. Without saying anything to Mrs. Jayson, I heft the box of stars into my arms and hurry to the lunchroom.

Much to my relief, Alora is nowhere to be seen when I get there, but there’s a huge ladder in the middle of the room and a couple of the extender poles that Mrs. Jayson had mentioned. I pull one of the stars out of the box, attach the end of the fishing line to the little hook that will attach to the drop ceiling and get it situated on the end of the pole. Taking the pole in one hand, I gingerly climb the ladder … and make the mistake of looking down. I’m probably about eight feet in the air. I squeeze my eyes shut for a second. I probably should have waited for someone else to be here to hold the ladder. I release the breath I was holding and raise the pole toward the ceiling.

From behind me, I hear a laugh. “Double D, what the fuck are you doing up there? Don’t you know better than to climb a ladder without someone holding the base?”

I freeze for a few seconds before I look down to see her approaching. Show. No. Fear. “I’m fine, really. I wanted to see how this contraption works, because I’m sure I’ll end up putting a million of these up next Saturday.”

The ladder wiggles beneath me, and I gasp in surprise.

“How’s that, Double D? Does that help? Or are you scared?” Alora is down at the bottom giving it another shake and trying not to laugh.

“Stop.” My fingers grasp the sides of the ladder more firmly. I suck in some air and hold my breath. I steal another look down at the ground before I ease myself down a rung.

She shakes the ladder again, grinning up at me like the sick bitch that she is.

“Alora, I don’t know what the fuck I ever did to you,” I rasp. “Please stop.” I yelp as the ladder shifts again, and I work myself downward. If I can just get down a few more feet, I’ll feel better.

She snorts. “You’re really good at begging, aren’t you?”

What the hell?

As if it were all happening in slow motion, Alora gives the ladder one last shove. The ladder tips, and I tumble to the ground, landing on my hip and shoulder with a thud as the huge ladder crashes to the ground.

When I’m finally able to sit up, Alora has disappeared and several people have raced in, having heard the noise. I close my eyes, blocking out their concerned faces.

No more than a minute later, a gruff voice approaching surprises me.

“What the fuck happened?”

My eyes blink back open, and I wonder if I’m seeing things or if I’ve hit my head.

Micah scrambles over to me, skids to his knees, his hands hovering over me. “Are you hurt?” He’s sweaty, like he’d been interrupted mid-workout.

For a few seconds, I simply try to breathe. “I think I’m okay.”

“Didn’t you have someone spotting the ladder?”

I grimace. “Sort of.”

He cocks his head to the side. “Don’t fucking tell me it was Alora.”

My face turns bright red, and I can’t meet his gaze. I carefully move, testing my limbs. Finding them all intact, I start to get my feet.

Micah grasps my upper arms and helps me up. He doesn’t let go until he’s sure I’m steady, then tips my chin up so he can look directly into my eyes. “I’ll talk to her. I’ll make her stop. I promise, Daph.”

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