The picture above is how I imagine Lisa's necklace to be c:
• the wild child's bodyguard •
"It was their fault."
"It was Lisa's fault."
"Uh..."
"It was entirely my fault."
The Barbies whip their heads at me, eyes slightly widening, jaws slightly opened and brain thinking whaaaaaaaaat?
I glare at them all in return so that they'll know it's not because I feel -what's that cursed word again?- guilty. They whip their heads back, shrugging simultaneously, as if they couldn't care less about who takes the blame (which is bull, I know- they're glad I'm being the ultimate scapegoat).
Ms Davis, or what I like to call her, the Fury, looks dubious, "You mean to say that you singlehandedly trashed Ms Summer's hair, left bite marks all over Ms Baker's arm, tried to strangle Ms Clarke and slapped Ms Barton and Ms Jones's faces until they became black and blue?" she gestures to each of them, with Bella reddening.
I grimace. Let's just say that black, blue and red don't make for an attractive colour.
"Yes," I say slowly, "-yes, I believe I did."
Ms Davis stands up, looking at Emma this time. "Ms Clarke, Is it true that your own best friend tried to choke you?"
Emma's face contorts with guilt as she looks at me. I give her an encouraging nod. Still, being the fantastic liar that she is, she stutters out, "U-uh... You see... Uh... Not really..."
After an entire minute of listening to Emma throwing out random vocabulary, the Fury turns to Jess and repeats her question, "Ms Jones, is it true that your own best friend slapped you?"
Jess already has the whole Shakepearean drama kit prepared. Looking down, she pretends to wipe a tear off her cheek. "Y-yeah, but," she looks up again in desperation, "-I'm sure that she had a reason to do it. Or even if she doesn't... if all she wanted was pure sadistic fun... I hope that our friendship had meant something to her," she stare at me right in the eye, "-I know it meant something to me."
"That's good," I reply, a bored look on my face as I check my nails for any chips. Thank goodness Jess is a decent liar.
The Fury is now fuming mad.
"Ms Jones, Ms Summers, Ms Baker, Ms Clarke and Ms Barton," she says, gritting her teeth. "-you are all dismissed."
They nod, and scamper out the door with their head between their tails.
The Fury focuses her vulture-like gaze on me. That gaze would have made even a grown man drop to his knees for mercy, but not me. Not Lisa Kingsley, the ultimate badass. To say we have history together is an understatement.
Ms Davis only transferred to our school two years ago. She's still short, despite the inches of extra height her daily dose of high heels provide her with. And she's pudgy. Like, Harry Potter's cousin Dudley kind of pudgy. She can barely fit into her skirts, though she acts like she can. I admire that about her, really- the way she would wear the same mini grey pencil skirt every day, walk confidently, and being oblivious to the fact that her legs have a striking resemblance to elephant trunks.
I'm not kidding.
One day I'll get a zoo permit and bring an elephant to school just to let everyone see the comparison.
And since she's the disciplinary teacher, she's the teacher I see most in this school. You'd think that with all the time we've spent together, a soft spot for me would have grown in her cold, bottomless abyss of a heart, right?
YOU ARE READING
The Wild Child's Bodyguard
Novela Juvenil"You tell a lie so much sometimes, you actually start to believe it." my voice, barely a whisper. His touch, screaming fire against my skin. "Not everything was a lie," he says, still caressing my face- gently, delicately, as if I were the most pre...
