Bad Boy's Queen

8; Thinking Of The Bad Boy

Emily doesn't even look at me when she speaks. "I am going to hang out with Rylan tonight," she slurs almost monotonously.

"You guys are still together?" I don't ask it in an accusing tone. I am just surprised they're still together. I hardly see them even stand a foot away from each other. If I didn't know any better I would think they don't even know each other.

She looks at me for one second before turning back to her book, but that's not what bothers me. What bothers me is that she has looked at me like I did something wrong. Her eyes are cold and accusatory, watching me carefully from her peripheral vision as though I'm about to pounce on her.

My stomach drops. I never liked fighting with Emily. We rarely do but maybe that's what makes it so hard. We're childhood friends. I would be devastated if were to break off our friendship, which she could do anytime soon judging by the expression on her face.

"Is there something wrong?" I finally bring myself to ask. I know there's something wrong, but I don't know what it is. It's obviously not because I asked her about her relationship with Rylan, because she was already giving me cold stares all morning. I just hope it's not because she caught me with Hunter on Friday night.

"You act like you're so clueless." She snaps with venom laced in the words. It feels like someone cut me right across my chest. Her words sting but I try not to show it through my expression. Her dark eyes are now intently staring at me.

She sits up straighter this time. It's weird seeing her so riled up like this. I've never seen her this furious before.

She clenches her fist and rests her arm on the bench table in front of her. I look down at her since I'm sitting on the table, and mouth a 'what?'. I don't want to speak because my voice will probably crack, and I don't want Emily to see me cry. She might just be stressed out over something.

"I saw you with Hunter the other day. Since when did you become such a whore?"

"What? We didn't do anything." Technically that's true until we get to my house, but she doesn't know that.

"Don't act like you don't know. Admit it, Leah, my best friend is a slut." She smirks, her eyes scanning me from head to toe with absolute hatred and disgust. She closes the notebook she was once writing on and shoves both the blue book and pen into her backpack.

"How do you know?" I hastily ask. She stands, slinging her bag over one shoulder.

The schoolyard is silent except for the rumbling thunder and the yellow leaves rustling against each other. Grey clouds are starting to loom above the school, casting a dark shadow on the world.

"Elliot told me all about it." It almost feels like I'm being stabbed. The cut on my chest is now a hole that keeps expanding whenever I inhale.

I shake my head. "Elliot wouldn't do that."

"Oh, yeah? How did it feel getting fingered by my brother? Didn't take you for a screamer. Have fun whoring."

I hear her laugh when she walks away and watch as her blonde hair sways across her back as the wind brushes through it. The once fresh, stormy smell in the air has now changed into a bitter, rotten scent. It fills up my lungs, and so I hunch over the bench while clutching my stomach. I feel something creeping up my throat and gag. Gallons of blood pours out of my mouth and soon I am covered in my own blood.

I reach out, but my eyes refuse to see anything. I only see red. I'm drowning. My lungs burn. My head hurts. My whole body is paralysed.

There's a moment of silence before I gasp. My eyes flutter open, and I see Emily standing over me, but she's not wearing the hideous brown cardigan she had on a minute ago, and her hair is also tied up into a neat ponytail that makes her green eyes pop out.