Abhor

Chapter 9

Dylan

It was the next day when I walked into the cafeteria, surveying the surroundings. A soft growl escaped my stomach, my muscles aching from the fitness testing we had just finished in gym class. It was odd, throughout gym class, during the push-ups, sit-ups, and the mile run, I couldn't stop stealing glances at Emma. 

It was as if she was still doing the bet. A flimsy white tanktop hugged her upper half, accompanied by a pair of shorts that barely met dress code. I tried not to look at her because whenever I did, I found myself not able to look away.

 My thoughts were interrupted by a larger growl from my stomach, my pace quickening as I reached the line. I hated buying lunch but my mother isn't the type to pack little homemade lunches with cute little notes. I tapped my foot as I waited, the line practically at a halt. Crossing my arms over my chest, I stepped to the side, craning my neck to see what was holding up the line. 

I spotted her instantly, where she stood, holding up the line by entrancing everyone in a stare. Well, mostly everyone. A short white skirt flitted around her legs, a tight pink tee-shirt barely covering her navel. 

Batting her eyes, which were still coated with makeup, she tossed her perfectly curled hair over her shoulders. Taking in the scene, a smirk pulled at her lips before she moved out of the way, out of sight. 

As she passed me, our eyes met, a wink stealing my breath. "Hey" I recovered, gently taking her arm. "What are you doing?" I asked in disbelief, staring at the innocent expression she had painted on her face. 

"Me?" she questioned sweetly, placing a hand on her chest as she batted her eyes.

I rolled my eyes, seeing right through it. "Yes!" I exclaimed, before quickly lowering my voice. "What the hell is all this?" I questioned, gesturing to her outfit. 

As if taking inventory, she glanced down at herself before returning my gaze with a smile. "I'm winning the bet," she said simply, her voice sickly sweet. 

I shook my head, running my hand over my face. "The bet ended yesterday. You won, fair and square. It ended though" I told her, sighing in defeat. 

The smile remained, her head tilted to the side. "Did it?" she giggled, frustration flooding my veins.

"Why are you acting like this?" I asked quietly, only earning a smirk in return. This wasn't the Emma I knew. And this slutty robot that had the same face as her isn't working not for her, and certainly not for me. 

"I'm acting like your girlfriend. I'm acting 'sexy'. Just like you said" she prodded, before turning around, her skirt fluttering as the skin of her upper legs was revealed.  As she walked away, I began to jog after her. This conversation was not over. I wanted my Emma back. 

Before I could reach her, my stomach dropped. Natalie cut through the crowd, storming forwards. Paralyzed, I stopped in my tracks. My eyes grew wide as I watched in horror. Natalie moved forwards, slamming her tray of food into Emma's chest.

There was a moment of silence, a beat of absolute stillness as Emma stared down in surprise. 

"Oops," Natalie spat, unable to hide the smirk on her lips. It wasn't an accident, never was. It wasn't hard to tell, not with how jealous she'd been getting since Emma began dressing like this.  

The silence spread across the room, hushed whispers passing between students as they turned to take in the exchange. "Looks like I wrecked your shirt. So sorry" she taunted, pouting her lips.

A loud exhale escaped Emma, her body rigid. Natalie had already pushed past her, grabbing my arm, hard. I winced, a soft gasp slipping through my lips. She began to tug me away, my stomach sinking with dread. Until I heard Emma.