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There’s an awful dread knowing Rome is in here, but I’m determined to make the best of the situation.
The boisterous sound of him and his idiot friends rings closer and closer, but I don’t dare give them the satisfaction of a glance. I’ll admit, Rome has been living under my skin for the past few days, but that all changes now.
I straighten my back, lift my chin, and prepare myself for better days ahead. Rome Cromwell can stand in my shadow and play his games all he wants. I’m moving forward.
Our teacher, Mrs. Jenkins, steps in front of the class, and the whispers and hoots coming from the male students tell me they knew exactly what to expect from her. She looks young. Mid-to-late twenties, maybe. She’s also gorgeous. Sleek onyx hair that stretches to her mid-back and bright blue eyes that look like they're glowing.
Out of nowhere, I’m snapped from my trance when I feel the thud of something against the back of my head. It’s not hard, and it didn’t hurt, but it was definitely noticeable. And by the sound of laughter coming from behind me, it was also intentional.
I turn in my chair, my fingers gripping the backside, to find Rome with his head down in his arms while his body shakes with uncontrollable laughter. His friend, Luke, is sitting beside him with his hand over his mouth, sputtering into his palm as he tries to fight the urge to combust. Then there is Wilder on his left, who is biting back a smile, refusing to make eye contact with me.
Everyone in the back row knows one of those three boys just threw something at me. Some are whispering, others are wide-eyed in surprise, and of course, there are the immature ones who are cackling right along with the kings of the class. Yet, no one says a word.
I dig my fingers into my hair, feeling the sticky mess of what I can only assume is gum. My body flushes with humiliation. My fingers tremble as I stretch the sticky substance, attempting to pull it out of my hair. Tears prick the corners of my eyes and a ball of fire lodges in my throat.
I wince in complete embarrassment. “Seriously?” My eyes move from Rome, to Luke, then to Wilder as my head shakes in disgust with these guys. A flash of remorse passes over Wilder’s features, but he still can’t look me in the eye, so his wordless apology falls short, and it’s certainly not accepted.
I push the legs of my chair back and get to my feet as I ball the small piece of gum in my fingers, knowing there is still more on the back of my head. “Excuse me,” I say to the girl beside me as I suck in my stomach and maneuver my way behind the row of chairs.
“What’s going on back there?” Mrs. Jenkins asks as she makes her way toward the middle row where I’m sitting.
I hold up the ball of gum, showing her proof of what just happened. “Rome Cromwell and his friends threw gum in my hair.”
Someone in the class—a girl—coughs out the word, “Narc,” and my eyes quickly snap around the room, wondering why she would insult me with name-calling. If any girl in here were in my shoes, they’d do the same thing. Those boys threw gum at me and they deserve to be punished.
Mrs. Jenkins lifts a brow, pinning Rome with an authoritative glare. “Is that true, Rome?”
Rome sticks a pencil in his mouth, biting down like it’s a toothpick as he sinks into his seat comfortably. “Wasn’t me.”
Mrs. Jenkins looks at the other boys while I hold Rome’s scathing glare.
No one fesses up, and when I think Mrs. Jenkins is just going to let it slide without the boys reaping any consequences, Rome pipes up, “Pretty sure I saw Brady Newton throw it at her.”
My eyebrows pinch together as I follow Rome’s cynical smirk to, who I can only assume is, Brady Newtown. He’s on the other side of the room, sitting straight with his hands clasped in front of him on the table. He’s got tight blond curls with a pair of bright blue sunglasses sitting on the top of his head with a Hawaiian button-up shirt. He looks like he’s ready to go on vacation somewhere tropical, versus sitting in an American lit class.
Brady lifts his eyebrows and clears his throat. “I did it.” He looks at me and I immediately shake my head, urging him not to take the blame for something he didn’t do. “I’m sorry I threw gum at you.”
I shake my head at Brady for going along with this shitshow. “That is a pathetic excuse for a lie.” I gesture to Rome acting like the king of the world. “Rome is clearly bullying him into confessing. I know it wasn’t Brady. The trajectory…”
“Trajectory?” Rome’s deep, booming laughter fills the classroom, and half of the students join in. “Sit down, new girl. You’re embarrassing yourself.” He shifts in his seat, his features morphing into that charismatic grin he wears so well. One that I'm sure wins everyone else over. But I see the insincerity behind his smile. Rome's charm doesn't sway me one bit.
“Ma’am,” he says to Mrs. Jenkins, “Brady and I are cool. So how she thinks I’m,” he air quotes, “‘bullying’ him, is beyond me.”
I glower at him, shaking my head in slow movements. I’m onto you, asshole.
I raise my hand coyly before speaking out of turn. “Mrs. Jenkins. If I may, I’d like to recant my outburst. Turns out, it’s my fault.” I chuckle before running my fingers through the back of my gummy hair. “Silly me. You see, Rome is my new stepbrother who I just moved in with. Last night, I borrowed his pillow, and he must’ve fallen asleep with gum in his mouth before I took it and it must have rolled out with his drool.”
A few snickers ring out around the room, encouraging me to keep going.
“I know it’s disgusting, but Rome drools a lot when he sleeps. It’s probably a medical condition and really not his fault.” I flash Rome a devilish smirk as his jaw tics in response. “I guess I rolled onto his chewed gum while I was sleeping. I apologize for disrupting the class.”
I expect a few giggles or laughs when I finish my rant, but instead, the class grows eerily quiet. His pull on these students is literally sickening.
"You're sure about that?" Mrs. Jenkins asks warily, eyeing Rome.
I nod slowly, feeling the heat radiate from my cheeks as they flush a bright shade of red.
"Very well.” She gestures her hand toward my seat. “Please, sit down and we'll continue."
