My Mythic Bitch In Red

Chapter Twenty-Three

(y/n)'s POV

I kissed Heather's cheek quickly before climbing out the passenger seat of her Porsche on Monday. We were sure that nobody saw us, since nobody was staring. Everyone looked perfectly normal and happy.

I also saw Jason Dean pull up on his motorbike and decided I might as well say hello. Veronica wanted us all to just act normal, and he and I could be considered friends. I'd just try not to seem anywhere near into him so he'd take the hint.

"Hello, Dean," I called as I walked past. He glanced up and a huge smile spread on his face.

"You're the first person to talk to me in two days, so thanks," he stated, seemingly actually grateful.

"Oh, it's no problem. How late did you stay out Friday?"

"I left about ten minutes after you. Did Veronica... tell you anything? Like over the weekend?" He seemed shaky and pale from anxiety coursing through his veins.

"Yeah, she did. I'm not interested, but I hope nothing changes between us. You're a good friend, JD, I don't want to lose that," I told him quietly. He seemed sad, but forced a smile and nodded.

"Alrighty, a pair o' pals we shall remain. Now go, you're not being late to class for me," he urged, pushing my back lightly. I smiled and scurried on my way to my class. Being late was surely a thing I didn't do.

JD's POV

I felt the calm I felt with her drain slowly from my body as I watched my purple flower speed-walk away. I was left with a dark, plain emptiness. Whatever happened to the chemistry we had at that 7-Eleven that Saturday that seemed like years ago? What happened to the nickname and the hug and the slushees?

That damn girl had become my sanity after I'd fallen so hard for her. I wanted, no, needed her to love me back. I needed her to look up at me with so fucking much admiration in her face that it made my breath hitch. I needed to take her on dates out to the forest and have her complain that she was in heels and she'd trip in the rocky terrain so I'd end up carrying her. I needed cliche kisses in the rain and sleepy "I love you"s while watching movies late at night.

I would kill for that.

Maybe I would kill for that.

Ram Sweeney first, he wronged her and bruised her lovely (s/c) skin.

I could shoot him and his goon, Kurt, behind the school. I just needed to get them there.

Maybe if I offered a fist-fight behind the school, one that only they could attend. They seemed to enjoy fighting, it was their favorite activity behind football and banging moderately attractive girls.

Yes, this would work perfectly. We'd bond over someone we both hated being dead. It was just logic, you don't kill someone they love, they'll just hate you. You kill someone they hate, so they can be relieved they're gone and you can see them visibly loosen up. She'd totally hug me again and wrap me in her warmth.

I decided against class today. I'd skip and write out my plans in the cafeteria. So I wandered down the almost-vacant halls to the large room that housed about 100 tables. Maybe 200. I never bothered to count them, I always had better things to do.

Heather Chandler's POV

I watched the back of (y/n)'s head as the teacher droned on about Love's Labour's Lost in the background. (y/n) wrote some notes down, or at least doodled to seem like she was paying attention.

"Now, pop quiz to see if you kids were listening. Which of the girls did Berowne carry a romance with?" Ms. Fleming asked and we all groaned a bit, but my brave (y/n) shakily raised her hand. Ms. Fleming nodded to allow her to answer, and I saw her shaking a bit.

"Rosaline?" She answered quietly, which was met by Ms. Fleming running over to hug her, which made her shoulders tense.

"Kids like you are why I started teaching, good work!" She gushed, before freeing her and going back up to the front of the room. Students glanced at her, some in shock or sympathy, others angry and jealous. Damn teachers pets, amirite? (y/n) deserved the praise, so glaring at her as if looks could actually kill was utterly useless.

"What a nerd," Some boy snickered. I glared back to him to make sure he knew that he was an asshole who could fuck himself if his dick was long enough. He just winked at me and tried to make a sexual symbol, but it was so stupid I was the one who shivered.

I rolled my eyes and looked back at the board where Ms. Fleming continued to enthusiastically tell us about the fine literature that was Shakespeare's writing. This one we were doing was one of his less popular works, but supposedly some kids in the audience that he based characters on were how he got his fabled limp.

How entertaining, right?

The bell blared, interrupting Fleming's lecture. I quickly gathered my books to confront that rude student. He seemed to be waiting for someone too, so I walked straight up without bothering to chase him.

"I don't appreciate you calling my friend a nerd, kid," I snapped, seething with anger at this no-name idiot.

"I don't appreciate you talking to me in that tone," he crossed his arms. "The names Jack, and I'm totally single," he wiggled his eyebrows a bit. I scoffed.

"Oh, so you're making fun of her because you like her? Well, Zack, I can tell you she's not interested."

"You got my name wrong, and I was talking to you. She's just an ugly nerd. You, on the other hand, total babe. I'd hit that," he flirted shamelessly. I rolled my eyes in response.

"Don't ever talk to me or my friends again or I'll castrate you in the hallway. Goodbye," I sauntered our to find (y/n) waiting for me, pressing her ear to the wall.

"Oh! Hey! You uh- you know you didn't have to stand up for me, right? It's fine, it happens all the time," she said quietly. I shook my head.

"But I wanted to. He's an asshole. Wanna get lunch at McDonalds today?" I asked. Her face lit up and she nodded.

"Any opportunity to get out and hang with you, I'm down for," she grinned widely and leaned in, as if to kiss me, before realizing we were in school.

That kiss would just have to wait.

(1112 words)