Sweet Revenge

Chapter 10

I lay face down on my bed with my hands sprawled out the side. The bus had just dropped me off and my first day of this school has finally come to an end. Not that it was even that bad, I'm just overly dramatic.

Clearly, I messed things up with both my plan and my reputation. Ashley ended up being in my math class too but since many of her other friends were there as well, she barely spoke a word to me. She probably heard about the icebreaker situation in english class and doesn't want to be seen with me now. The news about me seemed to have spread like wildfire, I lost count of the amount of times people glared at me in the hallway.

As soon as I got off the bus a few minutes ago, I ran straight to my bedroom, avoiding my mom. My goal was to be discreet, but I think I definitely failed. I tripped on the last step of our spiral stairwell, and the fall leaving me straight on my ass wasn't quiet.

"Honey, you're back home?" I hear her call now, "Are you okay?" Well, other than what feels like a bruise on my butt and a dent in my pride, I'm fine. Obviously, I don't tell her that.

I hear the door creak open, now she's going to push me into talking about my day. Great. I feel a hand on the small of my back and then hear her voice.

"You seem distant right now," I sit up out of bed and roll my eyes.

"I'm just tired and should probably get started on some homework," I formulate this as an excuse, if she thinks I'm busy doing work she'll definitely leave me alone. Alarmed by my sharp tone, my mom frowns.

"Oh, alright, I just expected you to give me a play by play of your day," She says, covering up her sudden sadness with a faint smile. She turns and slowly wanders out. Now I'm starting to feel terrible about blowing her off like this. Great, now I've just received the worst daughter award to add to my collection.

I slump back into my bed and let the weight of my huge backpack crush me. I have a plethora of homework, though now is not the time to do it. Now is the time for a long, fueling nap.

Two minutes later though, a knock at my bedroom door jolts me out of my sleep.

"Mom, I said I'm doing homework," I shout, groaning to myself. I was expecting to gain at least a little more energy before being forced to talk to her.

I shove my face deep into my pillow as the door creaks open yet again. Although, what catches me off guard is that the voice that comes next isn't my moms.

"It doesn't look like you're doing homework," It's a boys voice, one that I know all too well. I turn around to see none other than Ryan perched at the foot of my bed. I'm going to need a lot more energy than what I have now to get through this.

"What are you doing here, Ryan?" I ask, trying my hardest to stay calm. He shrugs in response.

"Just wanted to check up on you, I guess, how was the first day?" I hate how he just barges in here whenever he wants, each time time I talk to him feeling more and more like a betrayal to Poppy.

"Not amazing," I begin then quickly change the subject. "how do you even have time to stop by here so often?"

"Well, my mom is always off on business trips in all kinds of states and my dad works a lot during the day, so I'm usually home alone and bored to death," He explains, his eyes widening immediately after sharing so much.

"Wait, don't you have a brother?" I ask, suddenly thinking back to elementary school, when Oliver, his younger brother, used to be attached at the hip with him. Back then, Ryan was in 5th grade while Oliver was in 2nd, meaning he's a freshman now.

"Yeah, but Oliver is always out with his friends, I barely ever see him," He sighs to himself as he says this.

"Don't you ever hang out with your friends?" I'm probably coming off as rude with this question but why should I care?

"Well yeah, but they could be a lot to handle sometimes," He starts to say. "Anyway, it doesn't matter, let's get back to you," He says, waving it off with an embarrassed look.

"What about me?" I ask. I would feel bad for him because of what he just confessed, but his stalker behavior is showing through again.

"Do you need any help with your homework or something? I could also tell you more about some of your teachers if you want," He offers. I don't know why he likes acting like my personal assistant so much, but it's extremely annoying.

"Well, I don't care about the teachers, but you could tell me more about that stupid kid, Brandon," I suggest instead. If he wants to make fun of me to the whole school, I'll get dirt on him and do the same.

"Oh," Ryan says, tensing at the topic. "I mean, Brandon Forrester. He can be a lot sometimes, I agree," I wait for him to continue and when he doesn't I speak up.

"So, what do you know about him, he's your best friend, isn't he?"

"Look, I know that he spread the word of you stuttering during english class, but you shouldn't let it get to you," Ryan says.

"Why are you even friends with him if you know how much of an asshole he is?" I question, finally losing my cool. Brandon seems like the kind of guy 'the old Ryan' would be friends with. Not that I even care what kind of friends he should have.

"I honestly don't know," He mutters, so low, but just loud enough for me to hear.

"You know what, I do actually have a question about one of my assignments," I decide to change the subject. For whatever reason, it looked like Ryan was about to burst into tears just now and it's making me really uncomfortable.

Ryan just nods as I haul my MacBook out of my bag, a crumpled up piece of loose-leaf paper coming out with it.

"Huh, what's this?" I ask, more to myself than Ryan. I place the Macbook on the wood floor so I could take a better look at the paper, and that's when I remember.

"Ohh," I say in realization. Ryan comes up beside me, trying to sneak a look at the paper.

"What is it?" He asks, suddenly becoming curious.

"Just something Brandon threw at me during class to be annoying, I guess I forgot to throw it out,"

I was about to toss it in the trash underneath my desk, but Ryan was already snatching it from my hand, starting to unravel it.

"Hey! What are you doin-" My words automatically cut off when I saw the sloppy pencil lines scribbled on the lined paper. Just four words, but they initiated a fire inside me.

Come visit me. - Poppy is what the paper read.

Who the hell would joke about someone's dead best friend? Brandon Forrester. That's who.

heyy guys! i havent updated in what feels like forever lol. sadly, my uploading consistency is only going to get worse since i'm becoming more busy. anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter! as always please vote and comment, bye!

- mari 💜🩷