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“Sorry, Callum, I was thinking about our Duchess.”
Callum gets a sinister look on his face. The only thing he is missing is the evil-villain-style mustache and rubbing his hands together.
“She is going to be fun to break in.”
Gareth and Rodney join us before we get a chance to speak again. Looking at Rodney and speaking around a mouth full of food, I ask.
“Rodney, how was she this morning?”
His only response is a quick shrug of his shoulders as he takes a bite of his sandwich. He mulls over his reply while chewing.
“She looked like shit. Her clothes were hanging off her body, and she looked like she didn’t get much sleep.”
Something stirs in my chest, knowing Kennedy is suffering as much as we are. The fact that Rodney notices it as well means something. Callum snickers as she chimes into the conversation.
“The only interest I have in her clothing is what’s under it or seeing it piled in a heap on the floor.”
Our laughter at Callum’s quip is cut short as the Pussy Patrol sits down. All of the food options available here in the dining hall, yet each of them has some baby poop-green drink in their hands.
“By all means, ladies, join us.”
Callum’s statement is dripping with sarcasm and disdain.
Danica puts her talon-tipped hand on Gareth’s arm. He grips her wrist hard, flinging it away from him. He can’t stand these girls and the drama they create.
“Don’ttouchme. I won’t tell you again,” Gareth demands.
Knowing that she is fighting a losing battle, Danica turns to address Rodney as she cradles her arm to her chest and whines.
“So, Rodney, what was that little warning about this morning?”
Our eyes are glued to Rodney, questioning looks on all of our faces. He ignores us, addressing Danica, his voice void of emotion.
“You are to stay away from Kennedy Ain… Boden.”
Danica and the girls, thankfully, don’t catch Rodney’s slip. All four of them giggle, causing my eyes to narrow.
“That snotty bitch got what she deserved. Although, I think she got off light with just a bloody nose.”
Danica’s boasting statement hangs in the air. Focusing on Rodney and Gareth for a reaction, neither of them mentioned Kennedy having issues.
Beating Gareth, I voice the question left hanging, and our focus is now on Danica. My tone is sharp; an urgent need to protect Kennedy from these vipers overrides my need for revenge.
“What bloody nose? What are you talking about?”
Rodney takes over the questioning. The flush on his face belying his anger.
“When did she get a bloody nose? She didn’t have one in class.”
Gareth’s eyes ping-pong between us, confusion evident on his face.
“She looked fine when I saw her as well,” he says.
Danica’s ire is rising. Whatever game she is trying to play backfires spectacularly. Her resentment that we are giving our attention to another female is bringing her jealousy to the surface. Seeing our anger, Danica tries to downplay the incident, not as smug as before.
“We were just chatting in the ladies’ room. She slipped on some water and hit her face on the towel dispenser, that’s all.” Her voice wavers, not quite as confident in herself as when she first sat down.
The four of us share a look, knowing that there is more to this story than what Danica just glossed over. We drop it for now; one of us will get the truth before the end of the day.
