"Stop it," I snapped out.
Her mouth clenched shut and she watched me. A tear came to her eye.
"You don't get to feel bad for yourself." My whole body started to shake. "I wish I'd never been born from yo—"
She swung her hand wide and it smacked against my cheek. This time it hit across my nose and as my head was thrown to the side, I tasted blood. I glanced up, felt my insides churning, and fisted my hand. I threw my whole body behind.
I watched her in slow motion. She looked from my face to my hand and her mouth formed a small o. Her eyes widened, but then something caught me. I was hauled backwards in the air and against something. I tried kicking free, but an arm held on tight around my waist.
"Samantha!"
"Let me go." I kept kicking, until I heard laughter from behind.
"You could help," a male voice reverberated from behind my ear.
"I think you got it under control."
I was swung around and I saw Logan, James, and the friend in the doorway. Logan wiped a hand over his face as he continued to laugh. The friend was fighting back a smile and James gave me an emotionless expression.
I doubled my struggle.
Mason's arms tightened around me.
"Let me go. I won't hit her."
He grunted and dropped me.
I swung around and he watched me with caution.
Then I swiveled on my heel and went to bed. Not a word was spoken behind me and when I left the next day, Mousteff gave me a sheepish smile as he handed out his brown bag. I took it as I passed and met my da—David a block away. He was quiet when I got in the car, but I felt his attention. His eyes raked over my face, but he didn't say a word. I breathed out in thanks when we pulled into the parking lot. I hurried from the car before he got out of his side and I was in the school early enough so no one was in the hallways.
The rest of the day passed in a similar fashion.
Jessica and Lydia kept their distance. Jill Flatten sneered as she passed by once. Her arm was curled around Jeff's. He avoided my gaze and stared straight ahead. Then there was Becky. She gushed about the Kade brothers and how they had talked to her. She asked once about my hands and I lifted them. It was funny. I'd forgotten about their pain until she asked, but then she started to gush about Adam Quinn in the next breath.
Apparently, he told her that he did want to ask me out.
My hands had started to hurt again, but I listened to her story and tried to block the pain out. I asked her when he said he wanted to ask me out. She looked the other way while one of her shoulders jerked up in a shrug.
Adam Quinn never said a word.
Over the next week, things were at a bypass at home. Analise avoided me. I avoided her. And the boys seemed to have disappeared.
It was perfect.
When I got to school on Thursday, the rumors started.
I was a whore.
Jeff dumped me because I had herpes.
Lydia and Jessica were my friends because my mother bribed them.
My own dad hated me, he barely talked to me.
Then I cornered Becky at her car one day and demanded to know where the rumors had come from.
She squealed as she got red in the face, "Lydia."
My eyebrow rose up.
"And Jessica."
I waited.
"And Jill Flatten. She really hates you."
"I knew it."
Then Becky said in a small voice, "And Ashley DeCortts."
"Wait—what? Why does she hate me?"
"Because Adam likes you."
I rolled my eyes. The guy didn't give a damn. When'd she drop this obsession of hers?
"What else could go wrong?" I muttered under my breath.
The back door burst open at that moment and the football team jogged across the parking lot on the way to the field. Their spikes clattered against the tar and the sound was soon deafening.
"Hi," Becky squeaked with a small wave.
I turned to see that Adam Quinn had fallen to a walk as he drew close. He stopped with his helmet in one hand and a water bottle in the other. Up close, I saw why so many girls wanted to love him. Striking blue eyes, golden curls with streaks from the sun, and a square jaw that would've sent romantics swooning. Hell, they already did.
He towered over us with shoulder pads that made his already muscular shoulders larger. His chest tapered down to a slender waist and he grinned at Becky. His eyes scanned to me. "You need a ride home, Becky?"
"No." She sounded breathless. "My mom let me use her car this week."
"Good old Nancy." His grin brightened. "Am I still invited for chili and cornbread this weekend?"
Becky's foot started to push a rock back and forth on the ground. She didn't look up. "Yeah, of course. I know Eddie might come home this weekend."
"That's great. I've missed your brother." He cast me another questioning look.
I sighed and held out my hand. "I'm Samantha."
His hand enveloped mine. They were rough, slightly calloused, probably from throwing the football, but they weren't so rough to the touch. I could see why he dated Ashley DeCortts, the girl that seemed to reign over the cheerleaders. I suppose she daydreamed about the Ken Barbie he reminded me of, how he must've been the prince to her damsel in distress fairytale.
"I know. Adam Quinn."
"I know."
We grinned at each other.
"How're your hands?"
A faint scowl came to me. I remembered that he'd been there. "Oh, they're…" I lifted them up and shrugged. "I guess they're okay. They'll heal."
"You can drive home today?"
"What?"
"I saw your car here that night. Then I saw coach take off. I figured maybe you didn't have a ride or something."
"Oh, yeah. No, I'm fine. I've been driving all week."
"That's good."
"Yeah."
Becky continued to hang her head and I arched an eyebrow.
"So," he watched her too. "Are you guys going to the beach party tomorrow night?"
Her head snapped up and her cheeks were in flames.
Not surprised.
Then she mumbled out, "I' dlove to, butIdon't know whereit's at."
"There's a party?" I asked with a frown at my redheaded friend.
"Yeah." His teeth were blinding. "You could both go with me?"
Her mouth clenched shut and she watched me. A tear came to her eye.
"You don't get to feel bad for yourself." My whole body started to shake. "I wish I'd never been born from yo—"
She swung her hand wide and it smacked against my cheek. This time it hit across my nose and as my head was thrown to the side, I tasted blood. I glanced up, felt my insides churning, and fisted my hand. I threw my whole body behind.
I watched her in slow motion. She looked from my face to my hand and her mouth formed a small o. Her eyes widened, but then something caught me. I was hauled backwards in the air and against something. I tried kicking free, but an arm held on tight around my waist.
"Samantha!"
"Let me go." I kept kicking, until I heard laughter from behind.
"You could help," a male voice reverberated from behind my ear.
"I think you got it under control."
I was swung around and I saw Logan, James, and the friend in the doorway. Logan wiped a hand over his face as he continued to laugh. The friend was fighting back a smile and James gave me an emotionless expression.
I doubled my struggle.
Mason's arms tightened around me.
"Let me go. I won't hit her."
He grunted and dropped me.
I swung around and he watched me with caution.
Then I swiveled on my heel and went to bed. Not a word was spoken behind me and when I left the next day, Mousteff gave me a sheepish smile as he handed out his brown bag. I took it as I passed and met my da—David a block away. He was quiet when I got in the car, but I felt his attention. His eyes raked over my face, but he didn't say a word. I breathed out in thanks when we pulled into the parking lot. I hurried from the car before he got out of his side and I was in the school early enough so no one was in the hallways.
The rest of the day passed in a similar fashion.
Jessica and Lydia kept their distance. Jill Flatten sneered as she passed by once. Her arm was curled around Jeff's. He avoided my gaze and stared straight ahead. Then there was Becky. She gushed about the Kade brothers and how they had talked to her. She asked once about my hands and I lifted them. It was funny. I'd forgotten about their pain until she asked, but then she started to gush about Adam Quinn in the next breath.
Apparently, he told her that he did want to ask me out.
My hands had started to hurt again, but I listened to her story and tried to block the pain out. I asked her when he said he wanted to ask me out. She looked the other way while one of her shoulders jerked up in a shrug.
Adam Quinn never said a word.
Over the next week, things were at a bypass at home. Analise avoided me. I avoided her. And the boys seemed to have disappeared.
It was perfect.
When I got to school on Thursday, the rumors started.
I was a whore.
Jeff dumped me because I had herpes.
Lydia and Jessica were my friends because my mother bribed them.
My own dad hated me, he barely talked to me.
Then I cornered Becky at her car one day and demanded to know where the rumors had come from.
She squealed as she got red in the face, "Lydia."
My eyebrow rose up.
"And Jessica."
I waited.
"And Jill Flatten. She really hates you."
"I knew it."
Then Becky said in a small voice, "And Ashley DeCortts."
"Wait—what? Why does she hate me?"
"Because Adam likes you."
I rolled my eyes. The guy didn't give a damn. When'd she drop this obsession of hers?
"What else could go wrong?" I muttered under my breath.
The back door burst open at that moment and the football team jogged across the parking lot on the way to the field. Their spikes clattered against the tar and the sound was soon deafening.
"Hi," Becky squeaked with a small wave.
I turned to see that Adam Quinn had fallen to a walk as he drew close. He stopped with his helmet in one hand and a water bottle in the other. Up close, I saw why so many girls wanted to love him. Striking blue eyes, golden curls with streaks from the sun, and a square jaw that would've sent romantics swooning. Hell, they already did.
He towered over us with shoulder pads that made his already muscular shoulders larger. His chest tapered down to a slender waist and he grinned at Becky. His eyes scanned to me. "You need a ride home, Becky?"
"No." She sounded breathless. "My mom let me use her car this week."
"Good old Nancy." His grin brightened. "Am I still invited for chili and cornbread this weekend?"
Becky's foot started to push a rock back and forth on the ground. She didn't look up. "Yeah, of course. I know Eddie might come home this weekend."
"That's great. I've missed your brother." He cast me another questioning look.
I sighed and held out my hand. "I'm Samantha."
His hand enveloped mine. They were rough, slightly calloused, probably from throwing the football, but they weren't so rough to the touch. I could see why he dated Ashley DeCortts, the girl that seemed to reign over the cheerleaders. I suppose she daydreamed about the Ken Barbie he reminded me of, how he must've been the prince to her damsel in distress fairytale.
"I know. Adam Quinn."
"I know."
We grinned at each other.
"How're your hands?"
A faint scowl came to me. I remembered that he'd been there. "Oh, they're…" I lifted them up and shrugged. "I guess they're okay. They'll heal."
"You can drive home today?"
"What?"
"I saw your car here that night. Then I saw coach take off. I figured maybe you didn't have a ride or something."
"Oh, yeah. No, I'm fine. I've been driving all week."
"That's good."
"Yeah."
Becky continued to hang her head and I arched an eyebrow.
"So," he watched her too. "Are you guys going to the beach party tomorrow night?"
Her head snapped up and her cheeks were in flames.
Not surprised.
Then she mumbled out, "I' dlove to, butIdon't know whereit's at."
"There's a party?" I asked with a frown at my redheaded friend.
"Yeah." His teeth were blinding. "You could both go with me?"
