I don’t even want to think about this, yet I am. Why can’t I let this go? Why can’t I leave this behind me and be a new me? Forget all of it ever happened and continue with my life?
I’m so consumed by my own thoughts that I don’t look where I’m going, and the moment I make a turn into a hallway, I bump into a big, muscular guy whose rock-hard body easily knocks me down.
With an oompf, I land on the floor on my backpack.
Laughter ensues.
Then I look up.
It’s him.
Cole Travis.
And the look he gives me comes straight out of the devil’s playbook.
He’s surrounded by his buddies, one I recognize as a band member who was there when they were practicing. Behind them, a few girls tag along, giggling, waiting eagerly for them to do something. Anything. Good or bad.
“What the fuck was that?” one of his buddies with brown crew-cut hair balks.
I scramble up from the floor. “Sorry, I wasn’t looking.”
“You should be sorry!” one of the girls shouts over the crowd while I pat down my dress. “Do you even know who you bumped into?”
When I’m finally up on my feet again, I come face-to-face with Cole. I didn’t realize I was this close to him. The lines on his forehead crease as he frowns at me, clearly annoyed that I’m here and dared to bump into him.
“What are you doing here?” another band member with blond, wavy half-long hair growls.
It’s the one who was practicing with him a while ago, but I don’t know his name.
“None of your business,” I retort.
The girls start to laugh.
“What a joke,” one of the other guys with brown crew-cut hair says.
I make a face. “I already apologized.”
Cole cocks his head and checks his watch while tapping his foot. “Guys—”
“You’re such a fucking wuss,” the guy spits at me. “Apologizing? Don’t make me laugh.”
“Hey,” I say. “No need to—”
“To what? Laugh?” he says, and the girls laugh in conjunction like puppets on a string.
It’s disgusting. They’re only here because these guys are popular, following them around just to leech a tiny amount of fame. As if being around a celebrity suddenly makes you famous too. It’s so ridiculous, and they don’t even realize what they’re doing. I won’t ever be one of those girls. And I certainly won’t ever swoon in public over the likes of Cole Travis.
“Dude, just stop,” Cole growls at his buddy. “And Lindy? Shut up.” Cole glances over his shoulder at one of the girls laughing at me.
“No, she needs to learn a little respect,” the guy says, stepping forward. “New girls don’t parade around this school, acting as if it belongs to them.”
I cross my arms. “I didn’t know it belonged to anybody at all.”
“Yeah. Us. You’d better show a little respect,” he retorts.
“Respect?” I say with a tsk. “Good to know you’ve claimed this school. I wonder how the teachers and principal feel about that.”
“Don’t mess with us,” the guy hisses, pointing his finger at me as though it will add a threat to his statement.
“Michael,” Cole growls, and he grabs Michael’s arm, but Michael jerks himself free before Cole has a shot. “No. She needs to apologize properly and mean it.”
I narrow my eyes at him, trying not to feel intimidated, but it’s hard. All his groupies and friends are watching, and the twisted look on Cole’s face makes it hard not to get lost in rage.
I want to scream. Fight. Punch. Kick. Make a scene.
But that wouldn’t help me.
All it would do is make me more hated.
Especially by the countless fans who walk these very hallways.
It would be like career suicide but in high school.
Still, it hurts to be the target of their games. To have these people watch eagerly in anticipation of my demise as if I’m part of the show.
“Who are you even? Just some random girl thinking she can talk to us? No chance,” Michael says, and all the girls giggle again like it’s funny, but it’s not.
Now I know what Sam felt like when she was being bullied.
“You’re a nobody,” he adds. “Why did you even want to go to this school? You’ve got no friends. You’re running away from something, and I wanna know what it is.”
My eyes widen.
Panic seeps through my veins.
Run.
Run.
Run.
The word plays over and over in my mind, and I can’t escape the message it brings.
I should’ve run when I had the chance.
Should’ve fought when I had the time.
But I can’t change what happened. I can’t fix what someone else broke in me.
All I can do is try to ignore it and move on.
But the tears still well up in my eyes.
Suddenly, the look in Cole’s eyes shifts. His body grows rigid.
“Michael!” Cole intervenes, and he grabs Michael’s arm and jerks him aside. “Enough.”
It’s as if he’s reining in the dog meant to maul me.