The local precinct of the Brockton Bay Police Department was not particularly impressive. The building was rundown with faded graffiti, and the desk sergeant that directed us looked bored and sleepy. After about forty-five minutes, Detective Searls came in to speak with us. He looked about forty, with a thick neck and short buzzed hair. His eyes and hair were both black, contrasting with pale skin. Soon, Taylor and I were filling out depositions regarding what had happened at Winslow that day. I didn’t have the best feeling regarding the detective. He seemed to be going through the motions and took my written deposition without even asking about my guardian being present. Maybe he thought Danny was in loco parentis? Perhaps it wasn’t required just for witness depositions? Either way, it seemed slipshod.
I also didn’t expect him to review the depositions with us in front of Danny, asking questions about what we wrote. I hoped he didn’t bring it up, but I’d mentioned Emma Barnes’ taunting comments as sarcastic indications that she knew something about the flute. “So, you think this Emma Barnes was involved in some way?” he asked. Taylor winced. Crap, I was hoping she’d get implicated with the evidence or Hess flipping on her.
“I think she had knowledge of it when we spoke at the last period,” I replied.
Danny’s eyes were wide as he gave me a shocked look. “Taylor?” he asked in confusion.
“I don’t think she knew when I asked her at lunch,” she admitted. “It was Sophia Hess who later hinted I should look in the trash.”
“I spoke to her hours later. And Sophia is one of her best friends,” I added.
“Emma wouldn’t be involved in something like that,” Danny said. “Taylor, you’ve been best friends since first grade!”
“She hasn’t been my friend since I came back from summer camp before freshman year,” she admitted.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked.
“I thought I could handle it,” she replied. “I thought they’d get tired after a while. And Alan is one of your best friends. I didn’t want to screw that up for you.”
“Alan Barnes?” Detective Searls asked suddenly.
“Yes,” Danny replied absently, staring at Taylor – who was visibly upset. “Emma’s father. We’ve been friends for years, before Taylor and Emma were even born.”
I saw the detective’s face settle and his tone of voice changed suddenly. “Okay, it’s clear that you need to discuss things. Would you like to withdraw these depositions before they are attached to the official complaint?”
“Absolutely not,” I said quickly. “I’ve only given factual statements.”
Searls gave me an annoyed glance before Taylor added, “I don’t need to change anything. Dad, I’ll explain later.”
“I don’t like this,” Danny said. “We don’t keep secrets in our house.”
“Can we talk about this later? Not here?” she asked sharply.
Danny nodded. “Fine.”
Detective Searls straightened the papers in front of him. “Very well,” he said in a business-like tone. “If you’re sure, I’ll give you a case number and my desk number. We’ll see if we get any prints from the instrument.”
“Do you need to check Taylor’s locker for prints?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No, there’s no way to determine for sure when the theft happened. It’s too plausible to explain away anyone’s prints on the lock.”
“What about inside the locker?” I countered.
Searls started to look annoyed. “Going into the school would require a warrant from a judge, and I don’t see anything here that would justify it.”
“Really?” I asked, glaring.
He straightened in his chair. His right hand moved toward his left armpit, then the aborted motion turned into straightening his lapels. But I knew he was reaching for his sidearm for a moment. “I know you think you know everything from watching TV, but this is the real world. We must follow the law. Now I believe you three know the way out.”
Everyone was quiet as we made our way out to the parking lot. Finally, Danny broke the silence as we approached his car. “Rhiyen, let me know where to drop you off. I think Taylor and I have a lot to talk about.” His clearly dismissive tone rubbed me the wrong way.
“Well, I left my backpack in your living room, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to collect that first. Also, since I let the cat out of the bag, I suppose I’m due my share of claw marks,” I said, then paused. “If you want me there Taylor,” I concluded.
She swallowed nervously. “I think it would help. You saw a lot of it.”
Danny opened his mouth, and I asked quietly, “Is this where you want to have this talk?”
His mouth snapped shut and he angrily unlocked the car. I got in the back seat again while Taylor rode in the front passenger seat.
The car ride home was quiet as a tomb. Taylor sat rigid in her seat ahead of me. I wanted to reach out to her but couldn’t with her father right there. I also didn’t know what I could say that would be welcome, so I was pretty much useless back there.
When we arrived at the Hebert house, I opened the back door as soon as the car rolled to a stop and got out. I opened Taylor’s door and she blinked at me as she stood up. “You okay?” I murmured.
She nodded and I stepped out of her way. We followed her father inside after he unlocked the door. There our backpacks were, sitting together on the couch where we left them earlier. I was in no rush to collect mine. Instead, I stood beside Taylor as her dad turned toward us.
“Why does he need to be there?” Danny asked, scowling. I bit back the first thirty answers that sprang to mind.
“Why do I feel like you won’t believe me? Like back at the police station?” she asked.
“Taylor, you can’t spring something like that on me and expect me to just accept it,” he argued. “If you’re being bullied, then I deserve to know! I’m your father!”
“If?” she hissed, and I winced. I tried to put a hand on her shoulder, but she spun toward me. “Stay right there,” she asked quietly. I nodded. “Both of you,” she added when Danny tried to speak again. She marched over to a flight of stairs and climbed them two at a time.
Danny looked at me for a while, frowning. “Where did you meet Taylor,” he finally asked.
“We’re classmates,” I answered. “We have practically the same schedule.”
“How long have you been friends?” he asked. Behind him, Taylor came back down the stairs with a sheaf of papers clipped together.
“About eight hours,” I said lightly. “Not for lack of trying though.”
Taylor flushed a little. “Sorry about that. I thought Emma was trying to set me up with a fake boyfriend again.”
“Again?” I asked.
“Three times last year,” she confirmed. “Then they would mock me with her.”
I winced. “Yeah, I don’t blame you for being suspicious.”
“Emma really?” Danny asked.
“Remember Henry?” Taylor snapped.
“Um, no,” Danny said after a moment, puzzled.
“I talked about him for a week, as someone I thought I liked,” she said tiredly. “He was the first. When they didn’t let up this year, I started recording everything they did to me.” She thrust the papers at Danny. “Read it.” She looked over at me. “Out loud, please. Rhiyen can probably confirm a lot of it.”
Danny sat down heavily in a chair, while I led Taylor over to the couch. We sat together where the backpacks once were. I held her hand as Danny started.
“This is the first day of school,” he said.
“That’s when they started,” Taylor shot back.
“Pencil shavings dumped in my hair in world affairs,” Danny read, “taunted about having head lice, told they should shave it off, so I’d look like a boy.”
“That was Madison, wasn’t it?” I asked.
Taylor nodded.
“She’s one of the Three Witches of Eastwick,” I explained to Danny, “along with Barnes and Hess.”
“Madison Clements?” Danny asked, peering at the record. “And the teacher didn’t say anything? What was he thinking?”
“Yes,” Taylor confirmed. “Keep going.”
“As I was leaving art, Sophia shoulder-checked me into a desk. Told me to get out of the way. Bone bruise on thigh that night.” Danny read slowly. He swallowed and looked sick.
“I was sitting nearby when that happened,” I admitted. “I asked if you were okay,” I added apologetically.
“Knowing what I know now, I would have answered differently,” she agreed. “But seeing Emma all over you last period made me suspicious.”
“In my defense, she always came in right at the bell and sat beside me.”
“True,” Taylor agreed.
“It says here math class, Emma seems to be priming another Henry,” Danny added. He looked pretty green as the reality sunk in.
“Well, she won’t be doing that again,” I declared.
“Oh?” Taylor questioned. “She seemed pretty determined.”
“When she joked about… what happened today… I called her vile.”
Taylor blinked. “I wish I could have seen that.”
“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities in the future,” I assured her.
“Finally,” Danny interrupted, “it says you received twelve pieces of hate mail to your inbox.”
“Those are printed out on the following pages,” she clarified.
“My God, these are awful,” he said as he reviewed the printouts. “Isn’t that against the rules?” Danny asked.
“I’ve been reporting it all last year, until they just stopped listening. They’d say they couldn’t trace it back, but most of these were sent during class times and the IP addresses belonged to Winslow. They just needed to pull the records to see which student was logged on at the time. But after the first few times, they just stopped bothering.” Taylor was getting visibly worked up, so I discreetly squeezed her hand.
“Taylor, they can’t just… ignore you like that. There must be a reason,” Danny argued. Taylor’s hand squeezed mine tightly. He may not have meant to imply that she was somehow at fault, but damned if she wasn’t taking it that way.
“Just like Emma wouldn’t turn on me for no reason?” Taylor asked. “I must have done something wrong, right? You don’t think I’ve asked myself a hundred times what I did wrong? The only thing she’d tell me is that she was tired of me being a loser since Mom died.”
Danny flinched back like he’d been struck too. “I don’t understand any of this. Why didn’t you tell me when this started? Tell me the truth now.”
Taylor went still. “You want the truth. I’ll tell you the truth. I didn’t tell you because I wanted to handle it myself. I didn’t trust you to handle it.”
Danny went paler than ever. “What? Why wouldn’t you trust me?”
“Because you haven’t really been there for me since Mom died.”
With that, Taylor got up and opened the front door. She walked out into the night.
I jumped to my feet. “I’ll keep an eye on her,” I said in a rush as I followed her out. Danny didn’t move.
Unsure of myself, I hung back a couple of paces as Taylor angrily stalked down the sidewalk. A lot of things had been said, a lot of frustrations aired out. I didn’t really belong in the middle of this family dispute I’d blundered into. But here I was. She asked me to stay. For moral support? As a witness? She seemed convinced that Danny would have trouble believing her. I doubted he questioned her honesty, but he seemed to have trouble wrapping his head around how screwed up the situation was. Until he did, I could see him saying the wrong things repeatedly. Maybe Taylor was right not to involve him. I began to regret my earlier advice.
She looked up from her brooding and glanced back at me. “You don’t need to follow me,” she said softly.
I shrugged. “Friends don’t let friends get mugged,” I joked.
She sighed. “You don’t need to… just… thanks,” she started to protest, then deflated. “I’m sorry, it’s late. You need to get home.”
“I’m fine,” I said. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
Taylor closed her eyes and swallowed. “I’m not,” she admitted. “But nothing is going to get fixed tonight. Let’s head back.”
This time we walked back side by side. When we arrived a while later, the door was still unlocked. Danny was sitting in the kitchen, eyes fixed on the tabletop. Taylor looked at him, frowning.
I picked up my backpack and swung it up on my shoulder. “The busses are still running,” I said in a low voice. “See you tomorrow?”
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
She nodded, and I saw myself out.
O*O*O
The busses were indeed running when I left Taylor’s neighborhood. But they had ceased for the night when I tried to catch the connecting ride home. So, I cinched my backpack tight to my shoulders and took off at a quick jog. It had been a while since I’d last run in the night. Brockton Bay was a lot different than Glenridge by night. Fewer trees. Much more pavement. I set a steady pace that ate up the blocks.
When three men sprang out of an alleyway in front of me, I didn’t hesitate. The one directly in my path caught a hard right to the jaw that sent him careening to the side as I swerved around him. I would have kept running, but the one on the left had a pistol, so I ducked and pivoted, launching myself at him. He was just starting to react when I got my right hand around the wrist behind the pistol and pushed it aside. I straightened up inside his guard and my left elbow cracked against his temple. He slumped and I relieved him of the pistol.
The third guy just took off running, so I let him go. I stepped into the alleyway, looking for more people and finding none. I untucked my t-shirt and used the tail to wipe my prints off the gun after I made sure the safety was engaged. Then I chucked it into a dumpster. It was dark enough I doubt anyone got a good look at my face, so I left the two unconscious men on the ground and took off at a dead run. Then I ducked through an alley and emerged from the other end at a more moderate pace.
My breath was quick, and the blood was pounding through my veins. There was nothing like a quick bit of unambiguous violence after sorting through feelings for several hours. I wasn’t convinced I’d helped anything at all with my meddling. But then I recalled the sight of Taylor crying over the flute and how it felt to hold her, and all my recriminations died away. That, at least, I knew I’d gotten right. She needed a friend, and I was going to be there for her if it killed me. That surety settled me, as the Landry’s neighborhood finally appeared up ahead.
O*O*O
I set my alarm a little earlier, before going straight to bed. As a result, I managed to arrive at Winslow a few minutes before Taylor. I was waiting for her at her bus stop when she arrived.
She looked a little surprised to see me. “Rhiyen?” she asked. Maybe she was a little low on sleep too.
“Good morning, Taylor,” I said.
“Okay, I didn’t dream that part,” she muttered. Maybe more than a little sleep deprived. “Good morning, Rhiyen.”
We started walking together toward the entrance. I noted how easy it was to match the length of her stride. She was tall for a girl, and most of it was her legs, so we basically matched. I liked that.
People also noticed how we were almost walking in sync. We are making a statement here, now to see how people react to it.
The first test was just inside the entrance. A group of girls in a semicircle moved into Taylor’s path, loudly talking in voices meant to be overheard.
“Did you hear about her freaking out yesterday?”
“Over by the dumpsters?”
“Yeah, trash crying over trash.”
Taylor didn’t visibly flinch, but I could see the muscles in her jaws tighten. I still wanted to punch something. “Stop blocking the hall!” I snarled and stepped right through the group, making them back away. Taylor followed behind me.
“What the hell is your problem?” one protested.
‘Who do you think you are, her bodyguard?” another asked.
“Looks like someone has an IQ above room temperature,” I snarked back. As I looked back to deliver that line, I saw Taylor crack a smile.
“What was that?” she whispered as she caught up. People who heard the exchange were staring.
“Nobody talks trash about my friend,” I said, “or I get irate. This bullying bullshit is coming to a screeching halt.” I spoke louder to make sure I was overheard. Then I gave Taylor a wink.
The crowd thinned out as we made our way to the third floor. Classes were starting soon so we had to hurry as we swapped our books out. “Things okay at home?” I murmured as she closed her locker.
She shrugged. “He left early for work. I hope he’s just thinking about what I said, and not… drifting again.” She looked a little distraught. “I hope he handles this better than Mom’s death.”
“I do too,” I agreed. “But If your mother was anything like you, I can see why he had so much trouble.”
She smiled a little wanly. “That’s nice of you to say. But neither one of us has been the same since.”
We started off to Mrs. Knott’s room at a good clip. The day was just getting started.
O*O*O
Taylor didn’t know what she was expecting from Rhiyen when she returned to school, but it wasn’t this. He’d been waiting to greet her when she got off the bus and walked with her into Winslow. Having him walk in step with her was an odd experience. She’d been alone for so long, it felt off to have a partner, a friend even. She hadn’t felt this warmth since she and Emma were still friends, and thick as thieves as her mother once said. It felt really, really good.
But just inside the entrance, some of Emma and Madison’s friends were blocking her way, pretending to talk to each other as they reminisced over her humiliating ordeal yesterday. Reminding her of what she’d lost, what she’d had taken from her, instantly soured her mood.
Then Rhiyen erupted. He barked at the harpies like an enraged Cerberus, roughly shouldering them out of her way. They tried to taunt him about being her bodyguard. Instead of getting flustered, he proudly claimed the title, telling everyone in earshot that she was his friend, and the nastiness was stopping now. She could have kissed him in that moment, if she’d dared. She practically floated up the stairs.
He made a point of sitting next to her in computer science, rather than a few rows back. Greg looked annoyed when he wandered in after the bell and saw his usual seat taken. Taylor, on the other hand, couldn’t keep a smile off her face.
When Mrs. Knott gave the advanced students their programming task, she half-expected Rhiyen to ask for help with his code. I mean, since they were friends, and he’d been helping her so much. But when she asked, he just smiled at her and said he wanted to figure it out himself, so he’d know it for the exam. He looked so much better smiling than his usual scowl. Still, it surprised her a little bit. She’d expected something more… transactional. He was almost too good to be true. Or was she just so jaded by the people she’d encountered at Winslow that a good person liking her seemed suspect?
O*O*O
Mrs. Knott’s class passed quickly. I was rapidly adapting to the style of her in-class projects, but I was clearly well behind Taylor’s proficiency. Unsurprisingly, she offered to help me, but I demurred. Not only did I need to understand how the iterative solution worked for later testing, but I also didn’t want Taylor to think I was using her in any way. I remember how “The Deal” with Karen evolved over time. I was embarrassed over how mercenary I’d started off. I was also a little wistful over how much time was wasted. We were moving toward some kind of relationship when Sen Arashi attacked. Whether it would have survived her going off to college was anyone’s guess. I’d thought about it over the last summer, as much as I could bear. I don’t know if I’d made peace with it so much as resolved to not make the same mistakes again.
The last twenty-four hours also made me aware of how lonely I’d become. It wasn’t a comfortable thought. I’d always prided myself on being self-reliant. Being adaptable. The time I’d spent getting to know Taylor just left me wanting to know more about her. She was a fascinating mix of toughness and vulnerability that had my protective urges going haywire. At the same time, I didn’t want to come on too strong and drive her away. So I tried to play it cool, but all too often something seemed to short out my brain to mouth filter. Then, I’d say the most cringeworthy, earnest crap to her. I’m just glad she seemed to accept it.
I finished the work with about five minutes to spare. Taylor was long done and appeared to be reading something online. Mrs. Knott was cool about letting us do that, if our work was done. “What are you reading?” I asked her quietly.
“Parahumans Online,” she replied, just as stealthily. Mrs. Knott’s largesse did not extend to disrupting the class while others were working. When I glanced around, I noticed several people appeared to be working up to the wire. I didn’t know Taylor was interested in capes. I’d done a lot of research over the summer, but that was more in the nature of self-protection. I resolved to ask her about it later. I pulled up a news site and read a short summary of the case being made against a singer named Bad Canary. It sounded pretty gruesome, what she did to her ex.
With a minute to go, I stretched and rolled my neck. Greg was still typing away, sweating a bit. He wasn’t dumb, but I knew from what he’d muttered earlier that he hadn’t immediately gotten started on the assignment. Looks like he cut it too close. Most of the class was starting to pack it in. Taylor was frowning slightly at something she was reading, before she closed the browser and powered down the computer. Was it more crappy hate mail? I turned back and attended to my machine before I got caught staring.
I stood up with Taylor as the bell rang, swinging my backpack to my shoulder. When we made our way to world affairs, I stuck to the new formation, close beside Taylor and ready to step forward as needed. One of the girls from earlier opened her mouth, but I glared at her and she swallowed nervously instead. When we sat in world affairs, I deliberately chose the seat to her left to put my books down. This was the same side as the right-handed desks opened up on. But I stood behind Taylor’s desk and checked it for foreign objects before she sat down. I turned and looked down at Madison Clements who looked up at me like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. Maybe she’d already heard rumors.
Or maybe not, since she asked to sharpen her pencil right after the bell rang. She did her usual fumbling around before returning to her seat, coming down the row. Taylor eyed her warily as she approached, until a paper airplane shot right past her nose, distracting her. As Madison smirked and raised her cupped hand, I reached out and smacked the back of her wrist with the tips of my index and middle fingers. Her hand popped up, the fingers springing open and catapulting the shavings into Madison’s surprised face. She abruptly sneezed, drawing attention to her as the pencil shavings drifted down off her face onto her blouse and the floor. Everyone who was watching the paper airplane started staring at her, and a few in the back laughed.
Madison’s face reddened as she coughed. Taylor’s eyes were wide as she spun and took in the scene beside her. I could see her teeth indent her lower lip. Then Clements whirled toward me in outrage, “Mr. Gladly,” she cried out, “he hit me!”
Gladly, who was just now looking up from his lesson plan, looked confused and outraged, “What?”
“If I punched someone as tiny as her,” I called out, “she’d still be on the ground. And why is she covered with pencil shavings? Don’t those go in the trash?” I asked innocently.
“Rhiyen didn’t get out of his seat,” Taylor added helpfully.
Mr. Gladly sighed. “Okay, everyone, settle down. Madison, please go to the bathroom and get cleaned up. We have a group discussion today on a very serious subject.” It didn’t escape my attention that Madison took her bag with her and didn’t come back for the whole period.
When we split into groups, I quickly claimed Taylor before Greg could say anything. He looked annoyed again but ended up joining us with Sparky when the rest of the class left us to our own devices.
“The discussion topic for today,” Glady intoned in mock seriousness, “focuses on the Endbringers. Which one do you think has had the most negative impact on the world and why. You have fifty minutes to work out your group’s response, and then each team will present their answers.”
After a little discussion we found out that we all had different replies. Well, except for Sparky, who pretty much just looked off into space and periodically giggled under his breath.
Greg chose Behemoth, the first to appear, given the number of cape deaths attributed to “the Hero Killer”. He also backed it up with the mass destruction of oil fields and habit of tearing apart nuclear power plants.
I chose the Simurgh, the Hope-Killer, owing to all the quarantined cities where she was allowed to linger too long. She also had a habit of destroying or weaponizing new tinker tech that had the potential to revolutionize the world. And what she did to the world’s various space programs didn’t bear repeating.
Then Taylor chose Leviathan and completely schooled all of us. It wasn’t even close. I might have even felt embarrassed if I wasn’t prouder. So, sue me, I like smart girls. And Taylor was definitely one of those. But all of that confidence seemed to melt away when I suggested that she be the presenter since she clearly had the best arguments. So, I quickly changed gears and volunteered to handle that since she had done the most research on the subject.
Public speaking didn’t faze me much since I realized I could beat the crap out of anyone that dared mock me. It never proved necessary – confidence is king, after all. But that thought lingering in the back of my mind always made me feel better.
When Gladly asked each group which Endbringer they selected, I was surprised to see we were the only one that picked Leviathan. Greg looked upset and panicked, but I didn’t care. Taylor’s arguments were cogent and effective, so a good participation grade for today was pretty much in the bag. As undeserving as some people might be of this good fortune.
Since we were the odd group out, of course Gladly asked us to go first. At least no one else would be able to steal our ideas, as I’d seen them blatantly do several times. After all, why should they be honest when Gladly was too busy playing up to the popular kids to notice.
To start off, I summarized the points Greg and I made regarding the others, and had several people nodding along. “Then,” I said, “Taylor explained, nicely, how we were wrong.” I gave the lady in question a grin that made her openly blush. “First, consider Leviathan’s two big victories, Kyushu and Newfoundland. The first sinking pretty much destroyed Japan as a first, or even second world nation. While Newfoundland wasn’t as heavily populated, the enormous tsunamis touched off by both sinkings destroyed other cities on facing coastlines. Multiple cities were impacted by one attack. Second, consider what Leviathan did to the world economy. Oceanic shipping volume has dropped 95 percent since he first appeared, and the impact on international trade has been devastating. This triggered a worldwide economic downturn. Wages fall, prices rise, and tax revenues wane. The shipping collapse is what caused the riots that created the Boat Graveyard out in the bay. Leviathan is the reason why there’s no money to restore Winslow. The economic collapse has also boosted gang recruitment in every city. He’s hurt practically everyone in the world.”
The class was silent for a moment as they digested this. Then Madison decided to stick in her two cents. “You’re just making stuff up. How would Taylor know all this?”
I let out a theatrical sigh as I gave Clements a hooded glare. “I read some of this in the library, but Taylor’s father is Danny Hebert, the Head of Hiring for the Dockworkers Union. He’s been dealing with this longer than we’ve been alive. Is that good enough for you, Madison? Feel free to open a book as well.”
The look on her face was worth the scolding from Gladly. I also noticed that he didn’t challenge any of Taylor’s points.
As the bell rang, I looked at Taylor. “Want to join me for lunch?” I asked, deliberately acting like it was no big deal. She’d been avoiding the cafeteria as long as I’d known her, so I wasn’t about to push.
She paused thoughtfully as she packed her bag. “I think I’d like to give that a try,” she finally said. Her voice was quiet but steady. Nonetheless, I still detected an unspoken tension.
I smiled as I stood up. I noticed that her steps were a little shorter as we approached but decided to just match her. She paused at the entrance to the cafeteria, and I noticed more than a few eyes on us. Taylor followed me closely as I joined the serving line. I knew she brought her lunch, but I was more than happy to have the company. I also knew she was taking a big step forward here, so I wouldn’t begrudge her the support. I picked up a second milk as I went through the line, asking if she was lactose-intolerant. When I paid and exited the line, I scanned the lunchroom. There was a partially occupied table in the corner, so I made for the open end. The students there were older and engrossed in some deep discussion, so ignored us.
Taylor was quiet, but I could see the relief in her eyes as we sat down. I maneuvered things so her back was to the wall. I normally liked to have my eyes on the room, but her need was greater. As she hurriedly unpacked her lunch, I slid the extra milk over to her. She looked at me quizzically.
I gestured toward the juice-box she pulled out. “Lukewarm juice is okay, but a carton of milk would get unpalatable at that temperature.”
“I used to have an insulated lunchbox,” she muttered. I didn’t bother asking what had happened to it. “Why milk?”
“Osteoporosis is a thing,” I said. “I figured your bones could use all the help they can get,” I added quietly. I didn’t need to mention all the bruises courtesy of Sophia Hess.
As gestures went, it was pretty minor, but the small, pleased smile I got was a pleasant surprise. Then I saw a flash of motion from my left. Without thinking, I reached out and my hand intercepted what appeared to be a glob of mashed potatoes. I turned my head and saw one of the guys on the track team holding a spoon with his mouth hanging open.
I wiped my hand on a napkin and stood up. The murmur of conversation around us died down as I stalked over to their table. Most of the people sitting there were jocks, likely from the track team. They eyed me insolently. My knuckles itched. “You have an eating problem?” I asked spoon-boy.
He was a lean and toned guy with broad shoulders, but a long-distance runner’s build. “No,” he drawled.
“Do you want one?” I asked tightly, shifting my weight forward onto the balls of my feet.
He frowned. “Are you looking to get fucked up?” he sneered.
“I know who put you up to this,” I growled. “I don’t know what crap she’s been feeding you, but this shit stops now. Understand?”
He laughed, but his voice sounded tight in his throat. “Have you lost your mind? Look around.”
“I know there’s eight of you, and whoever else tries to jump in. Your leg gets broken first.” I thought of Jared. “And I know your coach won’t give a crap about you if you can’t compete.”
His eyes widened a little bit. “Are you crazy? Threaten me like this? Coach will have you expelled!”
I shrugged. “He can. Then there’s nothing to keep me from hunting you down. So tell me… You want to lay off and we’ll each pretend we don’t exist? Or does this get ugly?”
One of his friends butted in. “Maybe we take care of you, and then take care of your little girlfriend. Put a bag over her head and – “ his voice cut off as my eyes snapped to him.
I could feel the cords drawing tight on my jaw and forearms as I leaned forward a little more. “Finish that sentence and you’re first!” I snapped. My eyes bored into his as my cruel imagination pictured his threat. I wanted nothing more than to end his life. He was a big buy, with a bulky upper body, maybe he was Jared’s replacement. But he seemed to shrink in on himself as I pictured digging my fingers into his throat and tearing his head off.
“All right, all right, we’ll lay off,” the first guy said. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the lunchroom monitors belatedly rushing over.
“Fair enough,” I said in a calmer tone as I eased back. I heard one of the other jocks mutter, “Hess can deal with her own shit,” confirming what I already knew. I was halfway back to my table before she reached the track team’s table. They evidently decided against trying to throw me under the bus, because she didn’t even bother approaching us.
Taylor was staring at me after I sat down. “What was that?” she asked.
“Drawing some boundaries,” I said primly.
“Didn’t you just threaten, like, half the track team?” she pressed.
“More or less,” I shrugged.
“Aren’t you worried about getting beat up?” she asked quietly. “Or worse?”
“They have more to lose than I do, chasing athletic scholarships. I know I won’t go down easily, and I’ll cripple as many of them as I can in the process. They leave us alone, and we leave them alone is a lot less risky for them.”
Taylor blanched. “I don’t want you getting hurt,” she murmured.
“Some things are worth it,” I countered.