Bad guy (REWRITTEN)

Chapter 5

Anna

The clock on the nightstand blinked 11:47, red digits staring me down like they knew I was losing. I flung the pen across the desk; it skittered into the dark corner and stayed there. My scalp ached from dragging fingers through my hair too many times.

Billie's history homework sat finished beside mine, neat handwriting that wasn't mine, answers I'd scraped together while the house breathed empty around me. I'd given up sleep for this. For her.

I shoved back from the desk, bare feet cold on the floorboards, and padded to the kitchen. Fridge light sliced the dark when I opened it. Leftover pizza, one slice clinging to cardboard.

I took it cold, carried it to the couch, sank down, and bit in without tasting much. New school still tasted like rust. Billie made it worse, sharp, metallic, impossible to ignore. Forcing her work on me like I was an extension of her arm. I tipped my head back against the cushion, stared at the ceiling cracks that looked like veins.

Why couldn't anything just be ordinary? Same loop, same spin, no exit. And Why am i even doing her favor?.

"Done" I muttered to the empty room when the last page was filled. Relief hit like lukewarm water. I brushed my teeth in the bathroom mirror, avoiding my own tired eyes, swapped clothes for soft pajamas that smelled faintly of laundry soap, and collapsed face-first into bed. Sheets pulled to my chin. The mattress cradled me like it was the only thing that still gave a damn.

Sleep came fast.

Morning alarm buzzed like a trapped insect. I groaned, yanked the covers over my head. It kept going. Fine. I slapped it silent, harder than necessary, and stumbled upright. Teeth, cold water on my face, comb dragged through hair until it behaved. Closet gave me sweatpants, black hoodie, the Air Forces.

Kitchen still empty—no parents, no note, just the hum of the fridge. I grabbed an apple instead of cereal; stomach wasn't interested in more than that. 07:24. Time to pedal into the grinder again.
Locked the front door behind me, bike chain rattling as I coasted downhill toward school.
Inside, locker slammed shut after I dumped books. A voice exploded behind me.

"Boo!"

I jumped, hand flying to my chest. Sophie, grinning like she'd won something.

"Jesus. You trying to kill me?"

She laughed, bright and unrepentant. "It was funny"

"Heart attack isn't funny" I started walking toward first period; she fell in beside me.

"Lighten up. See you later?"

"Yeah. Bye"

Classroom smelled of yesterday's coffee and whiteboard cleaner. I slipped into my seat—next to the devil's throne, careful not to rustle too loud. She was already mid-conversation with her crew, voice low, easy ownership of the space.
Red-haired girl spotted me first. "Aye, look who crawled in. Billie—"

She turned. Blue eyes locked on mine. Nerves lit up my spine like faulty wiring.

"Oh! My little bitch showed up"

The nickname landed like a slap wrapped in velvet. Her friends snickered. I felt heat crawl up my neck.

"Did you do my homework?"