Borderline

Chapter 18

I never got my pants.

However, what I did get was a schedule change. Which meant, except for home room, my entire schedule was different.

All because girls took different classes.

I had gym first, and I was really excited until I got there and saw that it was just a joke.

The "joke" being the name of the class.

"Miss Morgan! Glad you could join us!" I had showed up late because I had to ask where my rooms were. The teacher beckoned me over, and I walked that way.

"Should I go change, or..."

A couple girls start laughing quietly, and I resist the urge to glare at them. Why were they laughing, anyway?

"No, sweetie. We don't change for gym class like the boys do."

"Then how do we play the sports and stuff? Because I'd rather not run around and kick a soccer ball in a skirt."

The laughing girls were getting a little louder, and this time I did turn and look at them. They looked like stereotypical bitches. Shocker.

"Miss Morgan, we don't play sports like the boys," the teacher explained, placing her hand on my shoulder. "This is more of an etiquette class."

I whip out my schedule and point to the class labeled "Girls' PE". "But it says 'P.E.'. If I'm not mistaken, that means 'physical education'. Doesn't that mean we have to, like, run around or something?"

The teacher shook her head. "No, dear. That's for the boys to do."

The blond girls were laughing loudly at me now. My face was flushed from embarrassment and anger.

I decided, since I couldn't do anything about the embarrassment, to do something about the anger.

I marched over to them and they looked at me, still laughing.

"Wow, where did you come from? Some public 'co-ed school'?" Said one, who I could tell was the leader. "Or are you just that stupid?"

I ground my teeth, holding back all my witty comments until the end.

"Yeah," chimed another girl. "Weren't you the one pretending to be a boy?"

The third one joined. Funny how these groups always seem to be in threes. "It's probably so she could get all close and cuddly with her boyfriend. She's probably just a slut."

I hate it when people talk like I'm not standing right in front of them.

I smirked. "Great job, girls. You guessed everything absolutely right! Now it's my turn."

I went up to the third one. "You look like a stuck-up, rich snob who couldn't navigate her way out of a wall-less room."

The second one. I tapped my chin, pretending to think. "You look like a slightly smarter rich brat, but after you started to grow up, I bet God wished he had given you're possible talent to someone else who would actually use it."

I got to their leader. My smirk grew. "Now, you...you just look like an overall whore. You've probably had sex with more boys than I know, which is saying something, since 99 percent of my friends are male."

The leader stood there, mouth open. I raised my eyebrows, keeping a cocky expression on my face. "What? Did I guess right? Gold star for me!"

I felt a stinging on my cheek.

That little bitch slapped me!

I blinked. My cocky grin was gone. "I'll let you off on that one," I warned. "But if I were you, I wouldn't do it again."

Man, I was getting soft. Normally I didn't give warnings.

The leader laughed at me and spat in my face. I wiped it off my cheek as she spoke. "Like I'm going to be afraid of a stupid bitch like you."

My smirk returned. "Damn," I said. "I was really hoping to keep these clothes clean."

Before she could ask what I meant, I was on her.

I grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her, then kicked at the back of her knees. That made her go from standing to kneeling in about 3 seconds.

One of her friends called out to the teacher, and I felt myself being tugged backward.

I thrashed out of whoever's grasp, then turned around to see that it was a teacher.

He was glaring at me, and his booming voice told me just how much trouble I was in.

***

"I will only ask this one more time, Miss Morgan. What is your father's phone number?" The headmaster said sternly, his dark eyes boring holes through my face.

"I told you already! His phone number is (xxx) xxx-xxxx!"

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "We've been over this, Miss Morgan. We've called that number three times, and every time we get the same message. That number isn't in service."

"Maybe you should call my mother then. Did you think of that?"

"Fine. What is your mother's phone number?"

I told him. He then proceeded to punch the numbers into the phone and put it on speaker.

We got the save out-of-service message.

"Wow," I said, rolling my eyes. "Totally didn't expect that."

The headmaster bolted up from his chair and slammed his fist on the desk. "Miss Morgan! You will give me a straight answer right now as to why your refuse to give me your parents numbers, or, so help me, I will make sure you never come back to this school!"

"Oh my gosh! Could you please? I hate it here, and I'd really like to go home."

He just stared at me, and I sighed, giving up.

"Those really are my parents' numbers. Well, they were."

"What do you mean?"

I looked at him. "They're dead, sir."

He sat back down quietly, his face changing to a look of pity.

"I'm...I'm sorry, Miss Morgan. I-"

I waved my hand. "Save it. I don't want your pity."

We sat quietly for a few more minutes before the doors opened forcefully and Joshua rushed in, Eli on his heels.