All the Little Lies (English Prep 1) - Page 20

Madeline’s face twisted with disgust.

“Are you kidding? You’re nothing but a piece of filthy trash covered with skin and bones.”

I shrugged. “Skin and bones? Isn't that why you and the rest of your clan refuse to eat carbs? I thought you wanted to be skinny? Otherwise, you wouldn’t fit into that cute little cheer uniform. Am I right?” I tilted my head. “When was the last time you had bread, Maddie?”

I snickered. Her face twitched a fraction, and I knew I struck a chord. Girls like her were the same across all high schools. Cutting out carbs, trying to be a size zero when they should be a healthy size five. There was nothing wrong with having curves. Why couldn’t they see that? I heard her scolding one of her friends two days ago in the lunchroom—in front of everyone, of course. “Put down that potato, Ariana, or else you’ll look like a potato and be at the bottom of the pyramid.”

“I thought I told you to stay away from Christian,” she snarled at me, holding my uniform in her hands, close to her chest.

My eyebrows rose. “No problem there. He’s all yours.”

She narrowed her eyes like a cat, her friends all looking back and forth to one another. I was sensing the climax coming soon, and I was really hoping I could rip my clothes out of her hand at some point, because I was starting to get chilly with the draft from the air conditioning breathing down my bare back. And not to mention, Piper was probably wondering where I was.

“See, I heard differently. I heard you two were leaving a room together the other night after I sent him on my errand.”

“Your errand?” I asked, confused. Was she the girl Cole messed around with? Who cares, Hayley! Grab your clothes!

I inched toward her, but she was smarter than I gave her credit for. She laughed and handed my clothes off to one of her friends. Dang it.

“I sent him to teach Cole a lesson. See, Cole dissed me, and I knew that if I said he touched one of my friends without permission, Christian would go crazy. Especially considering Cole went to Wellington Prep.” She threw her head back and cackled like a wicked witch.

“So, let me get this straight,” I started, keeping my voice even. “You wanted to get with Cole, and he took a hard pass—can’t say I blame him—and you told Christian…that he raped someone…just to get him beat up?” What kind of world am I living in?

It was pure silence in the locker room. So silent that you could hear the guys getting rowdy in their locker room through the vents.

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Madeline shot me another dirty look, throwing her hair over her shoulder and popping her hip out. “I find it funny that you think you’re in a position to judge someone, Hayley. Have you seen yourself? Your daddy got murdered because he was such a loser, and your own mother didn’t want to take care of you. Save the judgments for yourself. You’re likely to end up on a stripper pole, begging men to fuck you so you can feel worthy.”

“Funny coming from someone who just tried to fuck a Wellington Prep boy.”

It took every ounce of restraint I had in my body not to lay her flat on her ass. I envisioned it. Me pulling back my fist and punching her in her perfect, flawless face. Her body flying backwards and landing on the cool, concrete floor. But I couldn’t do that. If I got in trouble at this school, there would be no detention. There would be no punishment. I’d be kicked out. Back at Oakland High. Unable to get the hell out of this shitty town, and not to mention, back where Gabe was.

Instead of punching her lights out or giving her any satisfaction that she had wounded me, I put on a brave face, reached down and put on my Converse, and walked right past her and her fucked-up girl gang. If I showed one ounce of fear or hurt, these vultures would eat me alive. I made it seem like I wasn’t affected by her words.

But I was.

They stung.

I’d been hit before, slapped around more than I cared to think about, but words? Those stuck with you.

Your own mother didn’t want to take care of you. That was a true statement. She didn’t. My own mother told me she hated me. “It’s your fault we’re in this position. It’s your fault your father is dead. He had it under control, and you had to go and call the police. Now look at us!”

I shivered as the memory ran through my brain. My eyes glossed over, but I sucked the unshed tears back in.

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

And walking down the hall in search of clothes wasn’t going to kill me.

Not today.

Chapter Twelve

Christian

My father hadn’t been home for two weeks, except for a few hours last weekend. This was nothing out of the norm for Ollie and me, but lately, I'd been extra thankful for Ms. Porter. Once a week, when Ollie and I went to school, our maid/nanny/housekeeper, Ms. Porter, would come and do all the laundry in the house and make sure the fridge was stocked. It was a small gesture on my father’s part to hire her a couple of years ago, and I was glad. I couldn’t imagine slaving myself on the field, looking after Ollie’s childish ass, and acting like a Stepford wife, busying myself with laundry and cooking at home. That was what I was thinking about when I began throwing on my shorts and shirt that I wore during practice. Two more weeks and we faced our biggest competitor, and Coach was working us so hard I didn’t even have time to think about anything extra, let alone do anything extra.

Thank fuck. Even if I found football to be unavailing some days, at least it served as a welcomed distraction.

Tags: S.J. Sylvis English Prep Romance
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