Borrowed Time

Chapter Fifteen

If there was one thing that having a girlfriend had shown Juliette, it was that she was fucked for the rest of the year, god help her when it came time to apply to colleges, her transcripts were going to take a dip... All she could think about was Esme... The feeling of her lips, the curve of her smile, the warm, sleepy way that she smelt when they were lying together in bed right after waking up... She knew this was moving fast, that she was falling fast, but it felt right. And Esme was a wonderful distraction from her family and her home... plus, she hadn't been home since the argument, and she'd been ignoring all of her father's texts and calls, aside from the one asking if she was at least safe. She was. She felt safer around Esme and Shelby and Micheal than she ever had at home... Honestly, part of her was considering just bouncing between their three houses until graduation in the spring, but she doubted that her father would let this standoff go that long before he actually put his foot down... if he was still capable of putting his foot down, she knew it had to be hard to move around with the vice grip Samantha had on his balls.

Juliette was also fucked because she was too busy thinking about ways she could ruin Ingrid for what she was doing to Esme. Esme had told her it was fine, she could handle it, leave it alone... but Juliette wasn't going to do that, not when she had the power to make Ingrid's life a living hell. She could pretend to be her best friend during the day, gain her trust, and then destroy her... with a little chaos along the way, such as putting the worst bases under her, giving her the faulty back spot, and adding an extra sprint cycle at the end of practice, and pushing just a little too far when Ingrid asked her to stretch her leg... That would probably be enough to at least drive Ingrid into thinking that she was crazy. She was fucking crazy, only a crazy person would hurt someone the way she'd hurt Esme. She'd also considering getting those clear orbs that didn't show up well in water so that Ingrid could choke, but that would be too obvious. Plotting the revenge she wanted to get for Esme was almost all consuming, and she was starting to notice even though it'd only been two days... Even with Esme making her go to sleep, she'd only actually slept for two hours the night before and four the night before that... the rest of it had been spent scheming and now she was paying the price because she was exhausted and had to sit through a stuffy ass English class that she'd forgotten to do the homework for... One bat of her eyes at Mr. Peters and she'd gotten an extension, but still.

"Juliette... Hey, is this seat taken?" Juliette glanced over, rolling her eyes at him as she gestured toward the seat. Kyle Edwards couldn't come to a conclusion even if it were laid out right in front of him in bold lettering... Fucking idiot.

"Do you see anyone sitting in it? Or anything around it that would indicate that someone is sitting in it?" She asked, and he grinned at her, dropping his backpack as he slid into the chair, scooting a little bit too close to her. It wasn't just that she wanted to keep her distance from him because he smelled like stale Fritos, but it was also because the idea of him thinking he could touch her made her skin crawl... Why couldn't Mr. Peters put them at desks instead of at tables? It would've made her life a hell of a lot easier.

"Feisty attitude, alright." He leaned over, trying to push a chunk of her hair behind her ear, but Juliette smacked his hand away, giving him a look. Who the fuck touches people they hardly know? Freak. "How was your weekend?" He asked, and Juliette sighed, glancing over at him. She didn't like the dopey grin on his face, that often meant trouble... but she'd throw him a bone, mostly because she was bored and class hadn't started yet.

"Why?" She asked, and he shrugged, leaning away from her. Thank God. He looked almost dejected as he drummed the tips of his fingers on the table, looking toward the front of the classroom.