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Patrick is talking crazy. He must be scared because Ky is stronger and bigger than he is.
“Patrick, I’m sorry.”
“I gotta get to class, Rubi.” He walks back in the opposite direction. “Remember what I said, stay away from him.”
Easier said than done, in algebra class he sits right behind me, and I can feel him watching me. I can hear him breathing. I couldn’t even concentrate on the day’s lesson because I’m aware of him.
I open the page of my book and scrunch my nose because of the lingering smell of cheese. I try to get to the right page she instructed, but it’s stuck together. I take a frustrating deep breath and sigh.
I jolt when I hear the sound of a book slam close and look up. When I turn my head, Ky is standing right next to me grabbing my textbook and replacing it with his.
Everyone watches as he walks up to the front of the class, and the teacher raises her eyebrows when she sees him come forward with my textbook in his hand.
“Is there a problem Ky?” she asks.
He looks straight ahead and turns toward the trash. He drops the book with a thud into the garbage can. “I’m just taking out the trash.”
She lowers her eyes she can see above her reading glasses and notices it was my textbook. “Is that Rubiana’s textbook you threw out, Mr. Reeves?” She questions him in a stern voice.
He waves his fingers toward the smart board. “It’s not your concern. Do continue. As you can see, I have replaced it for her.”
The teacher opens and closes her mouth, but nothing comes out. She turns around and resumes writing on the board.
What has gotten into him? It’s not that I don’t appreciate him giving me his textbook that doesn’t smell like rotting cheese, but why the drastic change? Tyler glances at me from the corner of my eye, and the others in the class are just staring at him behind me, probably just as confused, but no one says anything. No one questions Ky.
It is lunch time and I sit at my normal seat waiting for Patrick. He is the only one I talk to during lunch but when I place my tray on the table and sit down but when I look over the next table and see Patrick is sitting at the table purposely away from me.
“Patrick,” I whisper-yell, trying not to attract attention.
He turns around and I gesture with my hands like what the hell is he doing over there. He shakes his head and I sag in my seat feeling defeated. Great. The only person I could talk to at lunch just got beat up by the school bully because of me. I can’t blame him, to be honest.
More people begin to come in the cafeteria as they begin to sit down, and they whisper and laugh as they pass by me sitting alone like an outcast, but I don’t care. Let them laugh. Let them talk about me. I still wear my hoodies like I’m used to because why stop now. It has become part of me and who I am. I don’t need to change because they saw the scars on my back, and the last thing they need to see is the two letters tattooed on my arm like a stupid school girl infatuated with a boy who torments me. I was relieved that no one pointed it out at the pool party. They were so focused on the visible scars on my back.
The table moves when someone sits next to me like they are sitting on a seesaw. I turn my head and I see that it’s Conner.
“What the hell do you want, Conner?” I ask, opening the chocolate milk carton.
He gives me a predatory smile that has my hairs on my back rising. “I don’t care about the scars, you know. What everyone is trying to find out is how you got them, but to me it doesn’t make a difference.” He leans closer and lowers his voice. “I do care about what you have in between your legs.”
“Fuck off,” I snarl. “Get away from me.”
“Or what? No one cares about you here. Not even your half-brother. He is just playing nice for his daddy. But I don’t care about all that. I know a nice piece of ass when I see one.”
I stiffen and my heart breaks. Is that true? Tyler still doesn’t want me here? Is it all an act and he’s playing me until I leave?
A shadow appears over the table behind me, and I can feel the tension. The presence of his energy without looking back and seeing that it is Ky.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Conner?”
He looks up and smirks. “Having a little chat with the freak.”
“Call her that one more time and we will see you looking like one.”
Conner’s smirks droops into a frown and he pinches his brows in confusion. He is probably just as confused as the rest of us by Ky’s sudden demeanor. Ky sits opposite Conner on the other side of me like I’m the center of a sandwich as they face each other.
Ky brushes the tiny hair behind my ear that escapes my braid. “She is pretty, isn’t she, Conner?” My insides begin to turn to mush, but there is a hard edge to his voice. I can sense the danger that is emanating from him.
“I-I thought you said she smelled and was ugly,” Conner stammers.
