Ugly girl

“What’s your problem?” she screeches. “Just leave. No one wants you here.”

“I don’t have a problem, Vanessa. You’re the one who came to me, remember. You’re the one with control issues here. So, tell me, what’s your problem? You know, apart from your rash.”

Her eyes flare as she pushes me again but this time I’m ready and stand my ground. “You’re my problem. You come in here, acting all high and mighty as though we should all bow down at your feet, but you’re nothing. We all saw your little freak out over that stupid knife. Which reminds me, what’s up with your brother? Is he your little lap dog or something? If you tell him to sit, is he a good little boy? Does he bark and fetch too?”

“I’m struggling to figure out what your point is. Have you made it yet or do you just like the sound of your own voice?”

“You’re a bitch and a liar,” she says. “Everyone knows your sob story about your parents is bullshit. I saw you at the mall with your mom last week. They’re perfectly alive,” she turns to the crowd around us. “That’s right, people,” she says a little louder. “This bitch made up some bullshit story about watching her parents being murdered, but what gets me is why? What do you gain out of making up such a ridiculous lie? Popularity? Friends? Sympathy? What a fucking joke.”

“Are you about done?” I ask, as I hear, not see, Blake bounding toward me.

“Oh yeah,” she laughs. “I think I made my point.”

“Good, now let me make mine.”

I rear back and my fist cracks across her face with the force of a semi-truck. Her head rebounds back and gasps are heard all over, but I know I only have a few seconds before Blake gets here and damn it, I’m going to make them count.

My fist rears back again but she snaps into action quicker than I thought and charges at me. I have to say, I’m pretty fucking impressed. Most girls would run or back away in fear of breaking a nail, but this one has guts.

She throws me into the empty table and we go sprawling over it. She grabs chunks of my long hair while I kick and scream like a banshee, all traces of poise gone.

“Stay away from him, you little bitch,” Nessa growls.

“The fuck are you talking about?” I screech, trying to kick her off me as I feel a sharp stinging at my chest. Confusion laces me. The only guy I’ve gotten even remotely close to was Damian and as far as I can tell, she couldn’t give a shit about him. Unless he’s the guy she got the rash from and there’s something more going on here. Though, if that’s the case, someone should let Rachel know that she needs to get tested

“Slade. He’s mine,” she yells. “I see the way you look at him. You’re a whore.”

I don’t have time to respond when Damian gets in between us and tears Nessa off me, leaving me to scramble off the table. With her now held down, I go for her again. There’s nothing better than an easy target.

I make my move but a hard tug pulls on my arm and my body is slammed against a brick wall, only on second glance, the brick wall is Slade’s chest. Wait what the fuck happened to Blake?

I pull against his grip. “Let me go,” I demand, desperate to knock a few of her pearly white teeth out.

Slade drags me a step away and spins me in his arms before taking hold of my shoulders. His eyes travel up and down my body and stop at my chest to where it’s still stinging. Fury ripples through his gaze but he keeps his cool despite how confused he’s just made me. His gaze softens as his lips pull into a straight line and I see the pity for the poor parentless girl. “Are you okay?”

Anger pulses through my veins. This is the one thing I didn’t want. My face scrunches up and I pull out of his arms while setting my jaw. “What’s it to you?”

He takes a step back like he just realized he did me a favor and his mask slips back down over his face. “Absolutely nothing.”

He walks away and Damian follows behind, leaving me and Nessa breathing hard. She slumps down onto the seat of the empty table while my gaze follows the boys. I distantly wonder about Blake again and then realize that I probably don’t want to know where that little horn-bag is. It must have been Damian I heard bounding toward us.

I turn back to Nessa and I don’t know what compels me to do it but I walk toward her and lean on the table in front of her. “That was all for Slade?” I question. She shrugs her shoulders, refusing to look up so I continue. “Think about it. He went for me, he looked over me, he asked me if I was okay, and he didn’t even spare you a second thought. This isn’t me being a bitch, this is a reality check. You were literally just fighting for a man who doesn’t give a single fuck about you. There’s something better out there. Stop holding onto his pathetic ass and go and find the guy who’s going to treat you like a queen.”

With that, I walk away before I give myself a chance to start wondering what the fuck just happened.