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I meet Naomi’s icy stare with my own. “Tell me why you’re laughing.”

“You must’ve really hit your head so hard, queen.” She says the last bit with pure mockery.

“Shut it, Naomi,” Bree scolds.

“No, let her speak.” I smile, crossing my arms over the table. “We’re a team, right? You can tell me anything.”

“God, I can’t believe this,” Naomi huffs. “Well, Queen Bitch—that’s your name around here, by the way—your daddy and your sugar daddy pay a shitload of money to this college. If you asked the dean to crawl on all fours like a dog, he’d be woofing.”

“That’s enough! You’re out, Naomi.” Bree hisses as all the girls—and even the boys—grow silent.

All clinks of utensils come to a halt, and everyone holds their breath.

Their wild eyes swing back to mine, as if expecting me to transform into a raging bull and squash Naomi under my boot –or in my case, flats.

I do no such thing and just watch the scene like an outsider looking in.

This was my life.

I’m a queen bitch and my teammates are scared of me.

Old Reina, just what the hell were you?

“Whatever.” Naomi jerks up, swinging her messenger bag over her shoulder. She yanks her plate off the table and stomps out of the cafeteria.

“I’m so going to teach that bitch a lesson,” Bree mutters under her breath.

“Calm down, Bree.” Prescott, one of the male cheerleaders, pats her arm, and she shoves him away.

“What’s Naomi’s problem with me?” I ask no one in particular.

“Uh…nothing.” Lucy slides to my side, grinning. “She’s just still bitter about the prank we pulled on her last year.”

“What prank?”

Lucy’s plump cheeks turn crimson, but she says nothing.

“Lucy.” I level her with a determined glare. “Tell me.”

“Uh…you dared Sebastian Weaver to fuck her.”

“She’s been mad at all of us ever since,” Prescott adds.

“As in more bitchy and grumpier than usual,” another girl, Morgan, says.

“She doesn’t even eat low carb like the rest of us.”

“And she doesn’t run in the mornings either.”

“Have you seen her thighs? Or those saggy arms?”

“Someone saw her sleeping in a cemetery. How creepy is that?”

God. These girls are like vapid animals tearing their prey’s flesh apart while laughing and joking.

The boys continue eating in silence, but it’s the same as participating.

I ignore them, focusing on Naomi holding her plate and storming out of the cafeteria. Her steps are tense and her shoulders hunch with tension.

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