The Secret (North Woods University 3)

“Clark is just a friend.” My voice trembles even though I don’t want it to.

“Aw, a friend?” Holly, as her friend called her says, cocking her head to the side. “Of course you’re only a friend, Clark doesn’t date garbage, and you look like garbage. I mean, what the hell are you wearing?”

Heat rises in my cheeks, and I feel the need to back up my stuff and escape the room.

“It doesn’t look like a garbage bag,” Claudia says, tossing her black glossy locks over her shoulder.

Holly snickers, and then leans down, her face like a beautifully painted masterpiece… a mask of ugly. She might be pretty on the outside, but inside she’s mean, evil, ugly. I’ve spent my entire life running away from girls like her, and because of my association with Clark, I’ve gathered the attention of another group of rich bitches.

“I saw the way you looked at Clark when he kissed me, the way your face fell. Like you ever had a chance with him,” she sneers, her lip curling in disgust. “He’ll never want you. If you’re smart, you’ll remove yourself from the situation because I have no problem taking out the trash.”

As if her words aren’t shitty enough, she shoves my books off the table and onto the floor. They land with a heavy clash that garners the attention of other students that are in the room.

“You’ve been warned,” Holly hisses before trudging away, her friend following behind her. I shouldn’t care, and truthfully, I don’t, but I’m angry, sad that Clark would be with someone like her, someone so hateful, so mean. Bending down, I pick up my books and them back down on the table.

A pang of pain echoes inside my chest, but I ignore it. The professor finally walks in and I’m so relieved I nearly sigh.

“Everyone open your textbooks to page forty-seven,” the professor’s stern voice orders. I do as he instructs and focus all my attention on him and the notes he’s putting up on the board. Being that my social life sucks ass, my academics are spot on. Reading, studying, writing, all of those things I’m incredibly good at, if only I could learn to let go of the fear surrounding my heart so I could excel at, at least making friends.

Class zooms by, and before I realize it, I’ve got an entire page of notes taken. The professor releases us with an essay on fear of the human body, which I find funny since it’s the one thing I live in daily.

I wait for most of the students to filter out of the room before I get up and start to put my stuff away. Holly and Claudia slip out of the room with giggling laughter and I do my best to ignore them. They don’t know me, the things I’ve endured, the things that made me the way I am… different.

Shoving all my stuff into my backpack, I zip it up and sling it over my shoulder. Then I pull out my phone, knowing I’ll have to decide on what to do. I’m going to have to face Clark one way or another. It’s the last thing I want to do right now, but it’s going to happen. I could always call Ava and ask her to give me a ride, but our friendship is new, and I don’t want her to think I’m using her. I unlock the screen to find three new messages from Clark.

Call me when you get a chance.

I’m sorry I have to leave campus.

Had to leave or left with another girl?

Just please call me, it’s not what you think.

That’s what they all say, right? Not that it matters, it’s none of my business. I suppose if I tell myself that enough, I’ll believe it. I could walk, but it’s already getting dark out and I don’t really want to walk to the condo which is a good three miles away in the dark all alone. Assuming I’m going to have to bite the bullet and deal with it, I pull up Clark’s contact on my phone just as I’m exiting the building. So caught up in my own thoughts I don’t notice the heeled foot stuck out in front of me until it’s too late. With the grace of an elephant, I fall forward landing on my hands and knees, my phone flying a good ten feet in front of me, skidding across the concrete.

Fucking great.

“Watch where you’re going,” Holly snickers. How did I know it was her? Apparently being friends with Clark has put a target on my back.

“Yeah, maybe if you weren’t wearing a trash bag then you wouldn’t have tripped,” Claudia adds, and they both burst out into cruel laughter. Still on my hands and knees, I hang my head, hiding my face under a wall of red hair.