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And if being put through hell was the whole point of life at Oak Park, then I should be fucking valedictorian by the time I graduated.
As bad as the first day had been, every day after was even worse.
The Princes had painted a giant bullseye on my back, and their minions all over the school scurried to carry out their command. Everyone, from fucking freshmen to seniors, screwed with me as much as possible. A few people—who were probably “trash adjacent” themselves, like Leah was—were decent to me, but even if they weren’t joining in the bullying, they were helpless to stop it. And a good portion of the student body did join in, treating me like shit and pulling awful “pranks” on me.
On Tuesday, they stuffed my locker with old food. I stopped by to swap out books after third period, and the stench wafting out hit me so hard I gagged. My eyes watered, and it took everything in me not to throw up in the middle of the hallway while the clusters of kids gathered around me laughed.
My grandmother had a car delivered to campus for me on Wednesday, and by that afternoon, it was covered in graffiti.
Idaho Trash.
White trash.
Whore.
Pathetic.
I spent the evening in the student lot with a bucket of water and a rag, scrubbing it clean so I wouldn’t have to stare at the words anymore. Instead of helping, students gathered to watch, recording me on their phones, whispering, and laughing.
The worst part was that each time one of these fucking pranks was pulled, one or more of the Princes was always there to see it. They watched my humiliation quietly, their expressions ranging from languid amusement to cruel satisfaction to—in Cole’s case—something like apathy.
It made my stomach drop every time I caught their gazes in the crowd. I didn’t want them to see me as defenseless and weak. And for some reason, it hurt the worst to be brought low in front of them, as if some part of me didn’t want them to think badly of me. I wanted Finn to look at me again the way he had that first day in class.
I shouldn’t care what they thought. They’d made their feelings about me perfectly clear. They hated me, and I hated them right back.
If only my damn hormones understood that.
On Friday, I slammed into my dorm at the end of the day, surprising one of my dorm-mates in the common area downstairs. Her face froze in shock as she stared at me. Maggie was sweet and shy, one of the few people at Oak Park who didn’t treat me like I was garbage… even if I currently was covered in it.
Her white-blonde curls were swept out of her face as she raised a hand and covered her nose and mouth. “Oh God, Talia. You smell like—”
“Shit,” I gritted out. “I know. I’m going to take a shower now.”
I couldn’t think of anything more humiliating then walking out of Johnson Hall at the end of the day and having a trash can upended over my head. Whoever had done it had been fast. I’d never seen them coming and had only glimpsed two students running away while the rest pointed and catcalled. Worst of all, Mason had stood there, leaning against the side of the building with his hands shoved in his pockets as he’d smiled at me. It wasn’t even a sneer, just a smile. A true smile. Like he’d never seen anything that made him happier in his whole life.
“Trash covered in trash. I think that’s irony,” he’d mused softly, his green eyes glittering like jewels.
The shock ricocheting through me had kept me from reacting, and I still wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not. A mix of rage and humiliation had flooded me, and I’d wanted to slam my fist into Mason’s face as much as I’d wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. In the end, I’d just stared at him for several long seconds, hands clenching and unclenching, while he smiled serenely at me.
Then I’d turned and walked away.
Live to fight another day, Talia. Be smart.
If Leah was right—and I had no reason to doubt she was anymore—then if I started some shit back, odds were good the school admins would take the Princes’ side, and I’d be the one who’d get blamed for it all. I could end up getting expelled or suspended, and I was determined not to let that happen.
As my dorm room door closed behind me, I peeled off my sticky clothes and threw them in the trash. There was no point trying to save them. My locker still smelled like ass, and I’d been trying to clean it out all week—at least the clothes were disposable.
When I looked into the bathroom mirror, I found bits of food trapped in my hair. I yanked out what I could, wincing at the pain in my scalp. A piece of gum had ended up trapped in the ends of my brunette strands, and I carefully picked at it, throwing the little pink chunks in the trash. The heavy stench of garbage still clung to my body, and I breathed through my mouth as I worked.
The water in the shower seared my skin, but I didn’t care; I scrubbed as hard as I could, turning my whole body pink.
The combination of a loofa and half a bottle of almond-vanilla body wash, shampoo and conditioner made me feel a little better.
Shit, I need to get out of this hellhole.
I’d had more than I could take for the week, and I was dying to get off campus. I texted Leah and smiled when she replied right away.
LEAH: Hell yeah girl! TGIF. Get me the fuck outta here
