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The trophies, though. He displayed them for his dad, knowing how proud they made Isaac.
“Holy shit, man. State champs, can you fucking believe it?” Chase shouts, patting Roman on the shoulder before lifting his arm in a celebratory cheer. “Q.B. of the century, ladies and gents!”
I press my back further into the lockers and clutch my math book to my chest, hoping to disappear into the worn, blue metal without anyone noticing me.
Roman shrugs off his hand, ignoring the praise. “Whatever,” he grunts. Chase tries again, shoving the monstrosity of a trophy into Ro’s arms. My stepbrother glares at the chunk of heavy gold like it’s personally offended him, refusing to accept it.
“Come on, man,” Chase cries. “It’s the first championship Divinity has had in over fifteen years! It’s a big fuckin’ deal.”
Roman slams his locker shut and scowls at Chase, ignoring the group of jocks and cheerleaders gathering around them.
I bite my lip. I don’t understand why he’s always so mad at the world. Chase is right. Roman was incredible last night. He’s Divinity Falls’ star quarterback, and he’s only a junior. I’m a freshman and I even know how big of a deal that is.
Lindsay Kemper, the cheer captain and resident mean girl, pushes her way through the crowd and wraps herself around Roman.
My gut drops and my books nearly spill to the floor along with it. Ro tenses but she ignores it, dragging him into her body by his thick bicep. His eyes flutter closed, and he inhales deeply, his jaw tensing in the way I know means he’s about to lose it.
The world around him goes on. Chase yells and cackles at something another football player said. Lindsay’s friends all find their own jocks to climb. Students push through the busy hallway, oblivious to what’s happening.
But I see it.
I see the way he fights the urge to shove her off. I see the way he wants to run and hide in his room, like always.
I see him.
Someone bumps into me, shoving me harshly into the lockers. My books drop and I cry out as my shoulder collides with the metal. He turns and shoots me a glare, as if I’m the one that hit him. His eyes rake down my body, starting at my braided pigtails, taking in my floral dress, one of Mama’s own creations, all the way to my worn tennis shoes.
“Fuckin’ freak,” he scoffs.
My stomach flips and bile crawls up my throat. I know I’m not a freak, but I’m not popular. Even if we’ve been here four years already, I’m just Roman’s annoying, goody-good stepsister.
A girl I don’t know but vaguely recognize from my math class slides up next to the guy and kisses his cheek before turning a sharp look toward me. She grimaces. “If God loved you so much, church girl, why’d he make you so ugly?”
Unable to help myself, my tongue runs over my braces and my eyes wince behind my glasses.
Without another word, the couple spins and continues on their way like they didn’t just make me want to both vomit and cry right in the hallway. Dropping down, I grab my spilled books before anyone can step on them.
Just as my fingers have wrapped around the spine, a feminine laugh filters through the busy hall and penetrates my foggy mind like a knife through butter. My head snaps up and the tears I’ve fought to keep at bay return with a vengeance, burning the backs of my nose.
Roman is looking right at me, an unreadable expression on his handsome face. I blink and it’s gone, replaced by a harsh smile meant to inflict maximum damage. He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t come to my rescue. Doesn’t even look away. He just wraps his arm around Lindsay and drags her body into his.
Right there in the hallway, with his eyes on mine, he kisses her. One hand tangles in her hair roughly, the other slides up the back of her bare leg and disappears beneath her skirt. She moans and leans into him, wrapping his letterman jacket in her fingers like she has any right to.
I finally lose my battle with my tears.
One slips down my cheek.
He smiles viciously, her tongue still down his throat.
And inside, I shatter.
“Church girl,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. If I had half the backbone I have today, I would have punched that bitch right in her nose. I giggle to myself, feeling slightly lightheaded from all the wine.
Okay, I probably wouldn’t have punched her, but I would have at least clapped back with something, anything, instead of just taking it. I took the bully’s shit—I took Roman’s shit. I was so caught up in the idea that people were inherently good that I gave everyone the benefit of the doubt.
I scoff.
If only I knew then what I know now.
