Malice

9

I’m relieved to get to swim practice at the end of my shitty first day back. It’ll be good to get in the water and let off some steam. I arrive early, hoping to get an extended warmup in before practice starts, and once I’m changed into my swimsuit, I make my way out to the pool.

Coach Friedricks is there already, which isn’t surprising, as she’s always early. What is surprising is the way her face crinkles into a deep scowl as I near.

“Ellis, I’m glad you got here first.” She motions me toward her. “We need to talk.”

A weight drops in my stomach because I’m certain whatever it is she has to say, I’m not going to like. Tightening my grip on my towel, I approach her tentatively. “Yeah, Coach? What’s up?”

Her jaw tenses, and she gazes down at her clipboard instead of looking at me.

I realize exactly where this is going before she even starts talking, but I can’t stop myself from squeaking, “Coach?”

“Listen, Mallory, I know Headmaster Aldridge told your guardian that you’d keep your spot on the team since all practices were cancelled over the break, but that was never his call to make. We’ve had some parents call in expressing concerns about your participation on the team.” She looks up at last, her gray eyes apologetic. “They’ve threatened to pull their kids from the team if you’re allowed to stay. I’m afraid I have no choice but to cut you.”

I hear the words coming out of her mouth, but it takes a few moments to fully comprehend her.

“I-I’m cut from the team?”

“I’m sorry, Ellis, it’s just that I don’t have much of a choice. You’re a talented swimmer, but you can’t make up for half my team.”

I get it, I do, but I’m still desperate to try and change her mind.

“What are the concerns they have?” I ask, my voice a little panicked. I already know the answer, but my lips keep moving, the words spilling out like vomit. “The parents? What did they say?”

Now, Coach looks uncomfortable. Inclining her head, she scratches at the underside of the tight bun she always wears at the nape of her neck. “The main concern was your alleged involvement in the fire that destroyed Angelle—”

“I didn’t set that goddamn fire, Coach!” I exclaim, then cringe at my outburst.

The last thing I need is to get sent to Aldridge’s office for cursing at a teacher. I might have been able to get away with it first semester, but this is a whole new world where I’m no longer just public enemy number one amongst my classmates.

Fortunately, Coach Friedricks seems to take pity on me as she moves her head from side to side. “I believe you, but at the end of the day, the parents want you gone and think you’re a danger to their kids. I really am sorry, Mallory. I know this isn’t fair, but my hands are tied. I have to think of the whole team right now, and what’s best for everyone.”

And apparently what’s best for everyone is for me to disappear.

This shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does, but I feel like I’ve been totally blindsided. My knees wobble as I turn from her to head back to the locker room to change. I don’t say anything else. There’s really no point.

About fifteen minutes later, I’m back in my uniform skirt and blouse, my blazer stuffed in my gym bag as I storm from the rec center. My face is so hot that I know I must look like a damn cherry. Yeah, I’m angry, but the worst emotion of all? The all too familiar taste of dejection. I just want to get back to my dorm and spend the rest of the evening by myself. Today has just been one blow after another, and I’m emotionally emptied.

Of course, I don’t get a reprieve because that’s not how my life fucking works.

As I’m crossing the quad, who should show up in my path but Laurel and her lemmings. Well, half her lemmings. Her usual coven of bitches seems to have been cut in half, and as I release a grumble of frustration, I wonder if it’s because of Saydi’s death. Regardless, Vanderbitch is the last person I want to see right now. Is she following me around campus just to torture me?

I wouldn’t put it past her.

She grins as I near. “Looking a little dry, slut. Practice over so soon?”

By the mocking tone of her voice, I gather that she’s well aware I’ve been kicked off the team. Somehow, I’m sure she’s had a hand in it. Did she personally call every parent to let them know that I’d been accused of the fire? Probably.

The bitch.

When she steps in front of me, I cross my arms over my chest and bare my teeth at her. “Get out of my way, Laurel.”

She chuckles and fluffs her platinum bob with her ridiculously long fingernails. Jesus, how does this bitch wipe her ass with those things? “No, I don’t think so. I’m enjoying this far too much to walk away from the fun just yet.”

“Enjoying what?” I demand.

“Watching you get shit all over, again and again. First Mr. Porter makes it crystal clear he doesn’t give a fuck what happens to you, and now Coach Friedricks is showing you how low of a priority you really are to her. You’re fucking pathetic, Mallory. You should really just quit, or better yet, why don’t you just go off somewhere and die?”

Her goons giggle around her, and that’s all I can take. I’m at my limit—in patience and fucks given. I take a step closer to Laurel and get right in her face. “You know what? I actually feel sorry for you.”

She appears momentarily surprised. “For me? Why in the hell would you feel sorry for me?”

I tilt my head, like a predatory snake about to strike. “Because, after everything you’ve done to please Saint, he still doesn’t want you.”

She flushes, her eyes going feral. “Says the nasty slut he was just using. I hope he double bagged, or we’ll probably have a new fire just so you can take care of another piece of your redneck crotch fruit.”

It takes every ounce of strength not to show a reaction to that, but my insides? My insides feel like they’re being torched. I allow a ghost of a smile to touch my lips, then give her a slow, unaffected blink. “How’s that relationship working out for you and Saint, Laurel?”

Her upper lip curls toward the tip of her altered nose. “You stupid slut.”

“That’s a new one I’ve never heard before,” I drawl in the most monotone voice possible. “Now move, bitch. I’m not doing this with you anymore.”

When I attempt to walk around her, though, her hand snakes out and she whips me back around. I react without considering the consequences and push her into one of her friends.

Murder gleams in her stare when she rights herself, but this time when she reaches out to stop me, I don’t lash out at her. I remind myself what’s at stake. “You’re going to pay for taking away someone I gave a fuck about,” she snarls.

At first, I think she’s talking about Saydi since the girl had followed Laurel around like a lost little lamb and worshipped the ground she walked on, but as I glare into her eyes, I realize that’s not the case. That’s not the case at all.

“This isn’t about the fire,” I murmur. “This is about him.”

Hell, maybe that’s the reason behind her red eyes from earlier, too.

Her nostrils flare, but she says nothing. Just rocks back slightly on the heels of her overpriced designer shoes.

“You’re pitiful,” I say, shaking my head incredulously.

“And you’re a trailer trash tragedy that still can’t figure out when to fuck off.”

We’re starting to draw quite the crowd, but I don’t care. They all think I’m worthless anyway. Why not let them enjoy a good ol’ fashioned bitch fight?