Restless Night (Insomniac Duet 1)

She combs her fingers through Micah’s short locks. He peers up at her with a what the hell are you doing look on his face. But what she says next wipes the look off his face.

“I had a good time the other night,” she says to Micah loud enough for half the cafeteria to hear. Especially me. “Sorry I’m not as easy as the school slut, though.” Her lips protrude in a fake pout, but her eyes scream pure evil.

Not that I have expressed my baby crush on Micah, but she saw it the second I let my eyes drift to him. And I royally fucked myself.

Micah shakes his head and doesn’t feed into her comment. This pisses Mercedes off.

“Didn’t you hear?” she asks, as if her lies are common knowledge.

“Hear what?” he says with boredom in his voice. And he doesn’t meet her gaze.

“Little Miss Slut” —she points her polished dagger directly at me— “had an orgy with the baseball team.”

My face lights on fire as every set of eyes in the cafeteria turns my way. I fucking hate her. Hate. Her.

But the way Micah looks at me flips my stomach upside down. Has the mystery casserole ready to reappear.

The first time Micah Reed notices me, really sees me, and he stares me down as if I am an easy lay. A conquest to mark on his bedpost and brag over with his jock buddies. His eyes narrow as he rises from the table. For a split second, I think he may walk off and ignore the bullshit Mercedes dishes out.

But I am dead wrong.

“Hey, pretty slut.” Eyes searing my skin, Micah fists his dick through the denim and licks his lips. “The track team is always game.”

The silence of moments ago vanishes as the entire cafeteria bursts into laughter. Fingers point my direction as eyes spill tears from laughing so hard.

Whooshing floods my ears as the laughter fades and the room swallows me whole. Pressure compresses my rib cage and squashes the tiny, erratic beating organ in the center. The small bites of casserole in my stomach threaten to make an appearance.

God, I want to stab something. Or someone.

And just like that, I am done.

Can’t. Do. This. Anymore.

I shoot up from the table, scream at the top of my lungs and throw my tray toward Mercedes. And before I act on my irrational thoughts, I scoop up my messenger bag and run. Run from the cafeteria. Run from every person in this piece of shit school. Run from a life I didn’t ask for and don’t deserve.

Fuck this place. Fuck Mercedes. And fuck Micah Reed.