“Did you do this?” I growl, pointing to the banner behind her.
She shrugs, purses her lips, and juts her hip out looking at me like I’m a peasant and she is the queen. To think that I used to be treated like a queen. If only she knew where I came from, the power I used to have, the power I no longer care to have.
“Maybe. Maybe not? Why’s it matter? Last I heard if you can handle three you can handle them all.” Laughter bubbles out of her, and the girl standing beside her. She looks familiar too, but my bone isn’t with her, it’s with her friend.
She thinks she’s perfect with her platinum blonde hair, and painted on face, but she’s just like the rest, a snotty bitch. My hands curl into fists, my nails digging into my palm.
“What are you going to do if I did?” She narrows her gaze and taunts me with a shit eating grin on her lips. I’ve endured enough bullshit. I came here to escape, to get away from the pain, the drama, but it seems it just followed me and I’m done, so done.
I react without thought pouncing on her like a cat. I pull back my fist and slug her in the face. Pain radiates up my arm while a scream that sounds like I’m murdering her pours from her lips. We scuffle across the grass, her fingers digging into my hair, pulling at the strands, causing a burning pain to flare across my scalp.
Bitch. I do the same, and when she starts to shriek like a pig, her arms flailing and her hands landing anywhere they can, I smile, feeling completely satisfied with myself.
“Harlow!” Caroline is grabbing onto my shoulders, and pulling me back, but not before I land another punch on the bitch’s nose. Chest heaving, and heart racing I take a step back and look at the girl lying on the grass, droplets of blood dribbling down from one of her nostrils.
“You’re trash. Nothing but a trashy whore,” Tiffany snarls, shoving up off the grass. I smooth a hand over my hair and down the front of my jeans. By now a crowd has gathered around us, and I fully expect to be called into the dean’s office for this little stunt. Whatever the punishment, it’ll be worth it.
“I know what she did was wrong, but you can’t just go around beating people up,” Caroline scolds while shaking her head, sending strands of her dark hair across her panicked face. Shit, I know she’s right but, god that felt good. Caroline starts pulling me away from the crowd and I follow her gladly, ready to get away from the gawking audience.
“Well, look who it is,” a familiar voice hisses and it has me stopping mid step. “Can’t get enough attention, can you?”
I turn and find Sullivan, Oliver, and Banks staring at me. Sullivan looks unimpressed with my little stunt. Banks has a stupid grin on his face that I would like to wipe off with my fist. And Oliver casts nothing but a cold glare my way. I know I should just walk away, I have already made the target on my back bigger by fighting Tiffany like this.
Unfortunately, my anger gets the better of me and before I can get a grip on it, words are pouring out of my mouth.
“I hope you’re happy,” I spit at them. “I’m guessing you had something to do with this?” I point at the banner.
“It’s not our fault that you’re such a slut,” Banks says, and I see red. Like a bull I charge him, pushing his chest so hard he stumbles back a few steps.
“You are just making this worse for yourself,” Oliver sneers.
“All you had to do was let me explain!”
“We are done listening to your lies, Harlow. You made your bed, now it’s time to lay in it,” Sullivan growls, his voice sinister.
For a moment I just stand there looking at them, trying to see the men who kissed me just a few days ago, the guys who held me and made me feel safe. I search for that compassion deep in their eyes, but all I see now are guys who hate me and want to hurt me.
“Harlow, we should probably…” Caroline places a hand on my shoulder.
“Yes, we should,” I whisper. We walk away from the crowd with me trying to ignore the nasty looks and condescending murmurs following me.
“It’s going to be okay, Harlow,” Caroline says, “We’ll figure this out.”
“I wish that was true.” Oh god, I hope she is right. Is everything going to be okay? Can I figure this out? Or is this going to be my life from now on?
Caroline walks me to my dorm. She asks me repeatedly if I’m okay and I give her the same answer, “yeah, I’m fine.” She wanted to come up and watch a movie, probably thinking she would be able to take my mind off this whole thing, but I know there is no hope, so I send her home.