[ three ]
She never kept her clothes in her gym locker. She lived on school grounds anyway. Instead she keps them in her room and went to get them everyday before PE.
It didn't worry her that she might get her late.
She could get there five minutes before the end bell and would never get in trouble for it, unless her mother dropped in for a visit.
Ashton grinned to himself when he saw her coming down the hall by herself. Her three other worker bees were nowhere to be seen and he knew this was when she was the most vulnerable, even if she didn't show it. When she was alone, she couldn't hide behind her mini bitches.
The hallway was empty, but even so, he stepped in her way. And again as she tried to walk past him. She tried several more times, with no luck and she finally groaned, stomping her foot in annoyance, placing her hands on her hips. She smacked her lips together to form a white line.
"Move out of my fucking way." She hissed.
Ashton smirked, "What? You don't know me anymore, Clar?"
He saw the recognition in her eyes, but she shook her head. "Of course I don't know you. And what the hell is your problem? You can't call me Clar, its Claryvette to you and all the other non-Bitch members in this fucking hellhole. Now, if you'll just get out of my way..."
She tried to walk past him again, only this time he grabbed onto her upper arm tightly, his fingers digging into her skin. "Don't pretend, Clar Morgan. We know each other and you know it. Or have you forgotten primary school?" He raised an eyebrow at her.
She winced, eyes pooling up with tears. "Get lost, you little shit. Go die in a hole somewhere or anything, just leave me alone." She said in a shaky voice, struggling in his hold, "You're hurting me. I can get you expelled for this, you know. Let me go!"
"Remember all the things I know about you." He reminded her in a whisper, the smirk ever-present on his face.
"You know nothing about me." She countered nervously.
His hazel eyed snuck a glance at her wrist. "I see you still wear bracelets."
"So do you." She gestured to his own wrist. "Now let me go! Let me go or I'll cry for help."
She tried to pull away from his hold with all her strength, but he was taller than her and stronger. He pulled her closer, stopping her from getting away, their faces just inches from each other.
They both jumped when they heard an authoratative voice behind Clary. "What is the meaning of this Claryvette?"
Ashton immediately let her go and she narrowed her eyes at him, flashing a knowing smirk that said, you're going to get in trouble now. Turning to face in the direction of the voice, she grinned, "Daddy!"
Running up to the man dressed in fancy military style uniform, Ashton watched them, gulping nervously. "What were you and this boy doing?" He asked his daughter after giving her a warm hug.
"Oh daddy," The girl began in a dramatic voice. "This pervert just walked up to me and grabbed my arm. And he wouldn't let go of me. He attacked me, daddy. Arrest him." She pointed a finger at Ashton accusingly while he stood there wide-eyed.
Everyone knew the Morgans were the most powerful people in Sydney; Mrs. Morgan was headmistress of the most prestigious academy in Sydney, Mr. Morgan was head of police in the city, Clary was their ever-perfect daugher, and they had one last daughter, Clover Morgan, who was the black sheep, the rebel of their perfect family.
