Reggie Mantle was an oaf.
In fact, if it wasn't for his toned abs and nice haircut Cheryl wouldn't even look at him, much less interact with him.
God she couldn't stand him, leaning against the gym wall, arms across his hard chest, that smug pout pinching at his lips, talking away no doubt about something asinine. What did he even have to talk about? Cheryl's glaring eyes flicked over to the person with whom he was speaking, her perfect little height reaching barely to his chest and her lovely, fluffy, grassy smelling pink-stained hair flapping about her back as she laughed her raspy laugh along with him.
What did they even have to talk about?
Cheryl thought back to the time she'd made out with him in the back of his car after a football game in sophomore year. She shivered. Slimy, hyper-masculine, boorish lout without two fucking brain cells to rub together. He couldn't start a fire if his brains were dynamite-
She froze, gripping her fingers painfully into her biceps as she stiffened her crossed arms, and her glare turned to a scowl.
She watched as Reggie's arm reached out and his large, uncultured, disgusting hand twirled a lock of Toni's perfect hair around a long finger before letting go and sliding it playfully down her arm.
He was touching her.
Control yourself, Cheryl.
He was touching her.
Cheryl....
She sucked a sharp breath in through clenched teeth, grinding them harshly.
Reggie fucking Mantle was touching her Toni.
Her knuckles turned white around her arms as that awful hand lolloped out again to teasingly bop Toni's nose. Both of them laughed.
Goddamn conspirators.
She thought back to Saturday morning. That same nose had been pressed into Cheryl's neck when she awoke, nuzzling at it in her sleep. They had been wrapped around each other like yin and yang, red and pink bleeding into one on the pillow. It was the most peaceful that Cheryl could remember feeling in a long time. Complete. She'd gazed at Toni's face for a while, memorising the flickering of her eyes beneath their lids, the gentle wisp of her breath through her nose, the soft skin of her cheeks, slack and relaxed, pleading to be kissed.
In had been blissful.
And it had been less than a damn week.
And here Toni was, lounging against the wall of the gym after assembly, flirting.
With Reggie fucking Mantle.
Cheryl regarded them both with filthy incredulity from her spot across the room, sitting rigidly between Betty and Veronica as they talked across her.
Reggie raised his hand, splaying his fingers out and pressed Toni's tiny hand to it, comparing the differing sizes.
Oh really?! That dunce had no imagination, she might've guessed. The oldest fucking trick in the book to hold a girl's hand.
Her Toni's hand.
Those slender, delicate, skilled little hands.
It was the last straw.
She pushed herself off the bleacher bench, her jaw set fiercely tight, and ignored Veronica and Betty's inquiries as to where she was going, shouting after her that they'd save her a seat at lunch.
