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My Sweet Bully

Page 31

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But that same destruction is breathing new life.

There’s a light in the darkness, and I want to move toward it.

8

Prairie

“Go!” The teacher calls out from the side of the field.

Launching upright, I slam my feet into the pavement, taking the lead as I move around the track. Every lane is full beside me, all of us giving it our all as the gym teacher, Mr. Holloway, holds his stopwatch chest high.

From my peripheral vision, a shadow emerges, feet and legs coming into view. So I push harder, despite the pain in my thighs, and the cramp in my side. Rounding the bend on the last lap of our sixteen-hundred, the teacher’s eyes flick between the runners.

We all cross the finish line, and I’m not sure if I won or not, it was close, I know that much. My chest is on fire as I try to catch my breath. Walking in circles, my hands are on my hips as my heart pounds like a drum.

“Nice job, ladies, nice job.” Looking down at his stopwatch, he smiles and points at me. “Prairie, that was impressive, four minutes and five seconds. Take notes, girls!” he calls out to the small track team, and points at me directly. “This is how you get college scholarships, right here, with times like these.” He holds out his stopwatch, making sure everyone sees the time, waving it back and forth in front of us. The bell rings, signaling that class is over. “Okay, see you Thursday.”

A couple of girls walk past me, giving me a dirty look. One girl smiles the fakest smile I’ve ever seen as she leans in and whispers to her friend. They both look at me at the same time, their eyes clouded with disgust.

“What the hell is their problem?”

Amy is at my side, wiping her forehead with a small towel. “Ignore them, they just feel threatened by you.”

“I don’t know why, it’s not like we’re against each other here, we’re on the same team.”

“Yeah, but that’s not how they see it. They’re used to being in the top tier, you just knocked them down.”

“I guess.” We start walking to the locker room, lagging behind the rest of the group. “You made it home all right I see,” I say to Amy.

I never saw her again the night of the party. We both split, going our separate ways after we got there. And once the place got busted, I couldn’t go back to find her.

Amy laughs as she tips her head back. “Yeah, I did, no thanks to you.” Giving me a playful shove, she shakes her head. “Where the hell were you anyway? When the cops stormed the place, I tried to find you, but you were nowhere.”

“I was with Max,” I say softly, darting my eyes to the ground as we walk.

“Yeah, but where were you?” Her smile is crooked, brows dipping in hard. “I didn’t see you in the house.” Cocking her head back, she stares at me. “And trust me, I looked. I didn’t ditch you, I want you to know that.”

“I know, I know. We were out back by the pool and took off through the bushes when it all went down.”

“Out back, huh?” She grins big, bouncing her brows.

I blush, giving her a push. “Shut up,” I say.

We stop at the double doors to the school, waiting behind another cluster of girls from the soccer team, and I hear a girl talking about prom. She’s going and back and forth with a girl I recognize from my homeroom class named Michelle.

She seems nice from what I can tell. We haven’t really talked, but she smiles at me, and helped me on my first day un-jam my locker.

“You know who I was thinking about asking,” she says, whispering into Michelle’s ear. “Max Ramon.”

“What?” Michelle says, jerking her head away. “Why?” Grimacing, she crinkles her face in disapproval. “He’s such an ass, Nina, of all the people, why him?”

“He looks good this year, unlike these other boys we go to school with.”

“Even if he looks good, he’s still an asshole.”

“An asshole who can get us booze. That doesn’t sound so bad, does it?”

My jaw clenches at the same time my cheeks heat red. Jealousy twists in my gut like a jagged knife. Anger floats through my muscles at Nina and at myself. This isn’t my jealousy to own. Max isn’t mine. He has no loyalty to me at all. Yes, we slept together, but that doesn’t mean we’re an item.

Was that a one night stand?

He’s single, just like you’re single.

Sex means nothing.

Yet, I can’t stop this sharp blade as it cuts through my stomach, making me feel sick. I don’t want her to ask him to prom, I don’t want to think of him with some other girl. I only want to think of him with me.



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