By early afternoon, yawns were erupting from my body every five minutes. After the wake-up call, the lab, the episodes between Lauren , dinah and Madoc, the sob session in the bathroom, and the heart-to-heart at lunch, my body needed to shut down for a while.
One more class and I could head home to crash. If I was lucky, we'd be watching a movie in Themes. When I remembered that Lauren shared this class with me, though, a renewed tension spit fire through my shoulder and neck muscles.
After I sat down, Nate Dietrich walked up to my desk and leaned in. "Hey, Camila , how about you come out with me this weekend?"
I couldn't help but laugh to myself. This guy passed me in the hall last week and grabbed his crotch in my direction. "No thanks, Nate." With his curly brown hair and hazel eyes, he was somewhat cute, but too stupid to tolerate. If he wasn't cracking some immature joke, then he was the immature joke.
"Oh, come on. Give me a chance." His long, sing-song tone sounded like he was speaking to a toddler.
"Not. Interested." I made deliberate eye contact, shooting him a warning with my eyes. It was definitely no secret now that I could handle myself. He should take the warning. Opening my notebook and looking at my notes, I hoped he'd take the hint that this conversation was over.
"I don't get you." Nope. As I said, too stupid. "You give it to Trent in the locker room last week, and then you let Jamison take you out. You probably gave it up for him, too." He leaned in further and ran his hand up my arm.
Every nerve in my body was electrified. I wanted to bring this guy's head down on my knee hard enough to sprout blood flow that would rival Niagara Falls.
"Leave," I gritted out, still trying to study my notes. "That's your last warning." I couldn't even look at him, as gross as the encounter had made me feel. The idea of everyone thinking I was some sleazy throw-away made the walls cave in on me.
As much as I tried to act like this was normal for me and that I was used to it, it still felt like shit. What people thought of me mattered.
"Lauren's right. You're not worth it," Nate whispered with a snarl.
"Sit down, Nate." The husky, commanding voice startled us both.
Looking up, I saw Lauren standing behind Nate, giving him her death glare.
My heart skipped a beat when I realized that, for once, Lauren's scowl was not directed at me.
As usual, Lauren gave the impression that she could take on an army all by himself.
Nate twisted around slowly. "Hey, no offense. If you're not done with her . . ." Nate shrugged, backing off out of Lauren's way.
"Don't talk to her again." Lauren's voice was even, but her eyes were threatening.
What the hell?
"Go." Lauren jerked her chin, and Nate left as if he was just dismissed.
I let out a bitter sigh. How dare she try to troubleshoot a problem she created! They all, at one time or another, had thought I was a slut because of her. Isn't this what she wanted? Isn't me being harassed and uncomfortable the goal of her bullying?
Sick of her torment and games, I forced down the urge in my twitching fists to hit her. It was then that I realized I wanted to hurt Lauren . Really hurt her .
I hate you.
My emotions fell into a relaxed lividness. "Don't do me any favors," I bit out, meeting her eyes. The satisfaction of hurting her for once would feel fucking great. "You're a miserable piece of shit, Lauren. But then, I guess I'd be miserable, too, if my parents hated me. Your dad left you, and your mom avoids you. But who can blame them, right?"
Lauren flinched, and I immediately felt my insides shake. What was I doing? This wasn't me! Bile rose in my throat. What did I just say to her? I waited for the satisfaction to come, but it never did.
She remained silent, and her eyes narrowed on me with a hint rage and despair. There was no way I could erase what I'd just done to her. Even though she hid her emotions, I'd seen the cringe.
