“I told you, Veronica. Fix your hearing problem, then you might want to fix your personality while you’re at it.”
She lifts her hand and hits me hard across the face, making me reel in my chair. The sting burns as gasps echo around the class. I’m so shocked, my hand flies to my cheek, feeling around the heated skin.
I’ve always been the victim of pranks at school, the worst of all having a bucket of paint poured all over me, but no one, no bloody one, has ever put their hands on me. Violence is the last thing that can be condoned in an elite school like RES.
Xander approaches us, but before he comes closer and takes his Barbie’s side, I punch her in the face. It’s not a slap or pulling of hairs – I straight out drive my fist into her nose.
I don’t even stop to think about it.
Instinct. This must be what it feels like. A bit impulsive, a lot liberating.
I feel the crack before I hear it. From Veronica, not me. Her face contorts and she shrieks as blood trickles down her nose and over her violet-painted lips, smudged by Xander’s kiss.
The sight of her blood freezes me in place. My hand remains motionless, still in a fist, as if it can’t be moved or flexed.
Blood.
Red.
Messy.
Oh, Shit. I think I’m going to faint.
The image of my own blood oozing out slow but steady assaults me. It won’t stop. It won’t even disappear.
It’s there. It’s going to end now.
Maybe Mum will find me. Maybe Mari will.
Please don’t let Kir see me this way.
Don’t have him remember me as a ghost of myself.
“Kimmy.” The masculine voice pulls from my vision and I breathe harshly as if I’m coming out from a wave.
Ronan grabs both my shoulders, shaking me as my hand clutches my scarred wrist.
It didn’t happen.
It’s not happening, right? I’m not losing blood.
Oh, God. What’s wrong with me?
“Are you okay?” Ronan shakes me softly again. “I’m going to get you out of here.”
I don’t say anything as he drags me out. I faintly hear murmurs surrounding us, lots of them. They crumble and turn into the giant fog that’s gradually creeping to snatch my soul.
Veronica’s shrill voice cuts in behind me like blades. I stare back at her, at the blood running down her face and soaking the hem of her shirt. She’s struggling against Cole, who’s effortlessly stopping her with a hand.
Xander stands beside them, not bothering with her or her hysterical state. All his attention is on me as Ronan wraps an arm around my shoulder and drags me away.
As the world focuses on Veronica and my slow retreat, he’s concentrating on the hand that’s gripping my scarred wrist.
An itch pushes me to let go, but I can’t. If I do, blood will come out.
I’ll bleed out.
Xander watches my hand and then my face as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking about.