Blues

44. Blue Wall

“Aren’t you the slut’s friend?” Asks Ryan, his unsavory gaze parsing my figure, as if I were an offensive object. He crosses his arms, his eyes moving to hunt through the faces in the classroom, and without any labor, I know whom he’s looking for, which was the exact reason why I asked Melody to be absent today.

“Don’t call her that, and I’m not here to talk about her.” I state, my tone limpid and serious.

I do understand what it feels like to be double-crossed, and betrayal is not that different from cheating. As much as I hate it, I can understand where he’s coming from. In fact, I feel shamefaced for not getting back at Ethan, the way Ryan–Melody’s ex-boyfriend–did at Melody. I couldn’t even clash with him, the way I should have.

I ran, like the coward I truly am.

But then again, I couldn’t run for long, before I collided with Dylan, and everything has changed.

“What do you want then?” He inquires, looking impatient.

“I have something, and I want it to be all over campus.” I answer, no irresolution whatsoever.

I wish I could feel reluctance, it would make me a bit merciful, but Claire had to shoehorn my mom’s name in the dirt. She had to antagonize me, and not only shove my past right back at me, but to propagate it every where.

She chose me as her enemy, and this is payback.

Ryan’s eyebrows shoot up, his eyes shining with sheer interest. “Gossip?”

I let out an amused laugh. “Nope, I don’t gossip. I have some real material, a video, and I want it every where, along with some absorbing headline.”

The smirk that takes over his face, gives me the impression that his interest has aggrandized. “Who’s the victim?”

“Claire Rogers.” I don’t miss a beat.

Abruptly, he falls a step back, holding his hand up. “Woah, girl! Are you out of your mind? I’m not going to fuck with a chick like her. End of.”

“Don’t worry. She won’t know about you. In fact, you’ll merely be a spectator. I have a plan, and I just need a little help.” I demonstrate.

He looks away, his eyes disinclined. “I really don’t know-”

I cut him off, deciding to serve him my last card. “How much do you want?”

His face whips to look at me, surprise written all over it, laced with a hint of felicity, all recapped in the smirk that overspreads his features, informing me with the conclusion.

We finally have a deal.

____________________________

“Someone is grumpy tonight.” Trent singsongs coltishly, eyeing Alexa over the rim of his liquor glass. It’s been like that all night, him monitoring every movement she makes like a hawk, throwing a saucy remark, which is always met by an impudent comeback.

She plasters an overly sweet smile over her face. “Someone has a huge nose, it’s poking me in the cheek.”

Her repartee is welcomed with a roguish smirk. “Just ask, and more things will be poking you, wherever you want.” He winks.

“Jesus.” Logan mutters under his breath, before he slides off his stool, parading away with a repulsed look on his face, while I screw up my face with averseness, inwardly wondering if Trent would be insolent enough to utter such a thing while Dylan is present.

Nope, he’s a pussy. Even I turned out to be less chickenhearted than him, and was able to confess.

Poor Alexa turns deep crimson, which I see, even under the chromatic lights. “You’re such a pig.”