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The guys instantly knew what I meant, most of ‘em unable to contain their reactions of shock. The girls took a little longer—most of them anyway.
“You’re such a bitch!” It’s no wonder that Sasha knew the meaning immediately.
I laughed. “And you say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Miss Matthews, Miss Klinnleys,” the teacher spoke, returning from her errand, “quiet down or you’ll both be taking a trip to the principal’s office. And, Taryn,” her gaze settled on me, “you don’t need another trip to the principal today.”
“How many times you been there today?” Carter asked, leaning forward eagerly.
I didn’t answer, but Sasha answered instead, “It’d be her third time. Isn’t that, like, a record?”
The teacher must’ve seen my reaction, because she spoke quickly, loudly, “That’s enough. We’ll be having quiet time for the rest of the period. You can finish filling out your worksheets.”
I threw my books in my locker the second after class. Two students near me jumped in the air, quickly scattering when they saw me scowl.
It didn’t help that I saw Tray glance at me in disappointment, and then turn towards his locker. Fucker.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
As I stood, looking down below, my reflection looked different. Off.
I wasn’t the same—I didn’t look the same, I didn’t feel the same.
“Miss Matthews!” Coach Greenly called out, making his way across the pool area to me. “I see that you made it to your first practice.”
“Uh…yeah.”
What I hadn’t made it to was letting Tray know that Props would be showing up at his place, ready to start working. He’d pissed me off, and I knew it was irrational, but I hadn’t told him to get even. It was pathetic and childish, but it made me feel a little better.
“Good,” he clapped me on the shoulder, “swimsuit.”
“Not here.”
“That’s alright, I’m sure one of the girls will let you borrow one.”
Great.
Tristan came out of the locker room with a group of five in tow. All of them lined up at one end of the pool and one by one dove in to start warm-up laps.
“You’re Taryn, right?” A girl came up beside me. I was guessing she was on the team, since she wore a silver one-piece with her hair pulled into a swim cap.
“Yeah.”
“Brady Winters, teammate, or future teammate I guess.” She rolled her startling green eyes. “Coach told us this morning you were joining the team.”
“That’s funny,” I remarked dryly, “because I was just told at lunch.”
“You need a suit? I have, like, twenty in my locker. Number 812.”
“Thanks.” I frowned. “I don’t know if I’ve met you before. Senior?”
“Nope, junior. I just don’t run in the Holier than Thou Jasmine and Mandy Matthews circle. No offense.”
“None taken. Not a big fan of Tristan’s myself.”
“Believe me, we all know who you get along with and who you don’t. You’re the biggest thing to come to the school in a long time.”
“Winters! Laps!” Coach yelled out.
