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“At least she wants to look decent for my father. You don’t even want to look decent for yourself. What, you hate yourself that much? Or do you just hate the attention you know I’d love to pay you if you wore decent clothes?”
I scoffed. “I’d never give a second thought to the likes of you.”
He grinned. “Why? Scared I’d make you a sexaholic, like your mother?”
“No. I’d only be scared of the multiple STDs you’d pass on, seeing as you’re nothing but a useless manwhore.”
“The last thing I am is useless, sweet cheeks. You just don’t like admitting that because it means I might just be better than you. When really, this entire school is better than you.”
“Why? Because most everyone in this school has more money than me? Why don’t you harp on something you haven’t already beaten and shot out back?”
He smiled widely. “Maybe I’ll just pay your mother some attention this coming weekend, then. What’s the bar she likes to frequent? Bar None’s?”
I tried not to let the comment get under my skin because I understood how boys like Clint worked. I had no patience for him, and I wanted to waste no more energy on this asshole or anything he had to say. He was only trying to look tough for his friends, to come into his senior year with a bang. Like he did every fucking school year. Only this time, he’d chosen me to sink his teeth into.
And he was about to get a very rude awakening.
I sighed. “Look, Clinton. I get it. Really, I do. You come over here and you tease me and push my buttons because you want a reaction. Because your parents are never around to pay you any attention. I understand, completely. My mother pays me no attention, so we’re more alike than you think.”
He snarled. “I’ll never be like you.”
“Why? Because you have money, or because you lack class?”
“You don’t know the first fucking thing about having class.”
“I do know the first fucking thing about ruffling your feathers, though, Mr. Peacock.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you dare.”
I giggled. “What, Mr. Peacock? Don’t like the name?”
“It’s Clint, you useless little bitch.”
“Mr. Peacock it is. I knew you’d come to enjoy it.”
I watched his fists ball up, and for a split second I thought he was going to slug me. I braced myself. Prepared my body to fight its way out of this corner he’d backed me into. The cafeteria became eerily silent. I felt everyone watching us. I felt my hands trembling from a lack of nourishment. I felt the room tilting as my blood sugar plummeted. I had to eat. Despite what I knew was coming if I tried, I had to get something in my stomach.
I worked up the courage to pick up my spoon and dip it into my soup. As Clint’s eyes became engulfed in rage at my words, I puckered my lips and blew a stream of cool air across the steaming hot soup before clearing my throat.
“Are you done? Because if you are, my friends are here and I’d like to eat in peace.”
I saw Michael and Allison standing behind him holding their trays of food, ready to sit down with me. I put the spoonful of soup between my lips, and I could’ve sworn I saw his eyes follow the movement. But it was a fleeting motion and I wasn’t sure if I’d caught it right. He turned around, surveying my friends, and it was then I saw it.
I watched his posture relax as that wild smile came back into view.
It was as if everything played out in slow motion. Michael’s food tray fell from his hands as he lunged toward Clint. Allison jerked her tray up toward her own face, tossing food all over her chest as Clint quickly got up. He threw himself forward, his hand making its way underneath the table. I heard Allison squealing as food poured over her and I heard Michael yelling at Clint to get away from me. And as Clint’s hand slammed underneath the table, I watched my only food for the rest of the day jostle. My water bottle turned over, flooding my brown pants as the piping hot soup tumbled against my chest. I felt it soaking my outfit as I stood up, my jaw dropped open as the spoon fell from my hand.
Clint’s chuckle dawned on my ears, causing the world to move at regular speed as I snapped my face over toward his.
I licked my lips. “You’re going to regret that.”
His eyes fell down my body. “Trust me, I already do. No one wants to see those clothes clinging to a body like yours. You should probably go home and change.”
Allison hissed. “You’re a fucking loser, Clint.”
Michael stepped in front of her. “Get the heck out of here.”
Clint lunged at him, causing Michael and Allison to flinch. He laughed at the two of them, then turned back to me. I looked down at the mess my clothes had become. The soup that was on my stomach instead of in it. The searing hot pain forced tears to my eyes as he snickered, then walked away. I shook my hands off. I saw teachers rushing up to him and me. I saw the principal already pulling Clint aside, which only garnered him more respect from his bullshit friends.
