I sucked in quick, short breaths, trying not to laugh at seeing my best friend fall to his knees, groaning like a wounded animal.

Tate circled him, and I sat down to watch her.

“Don’t touch me, and don’t talk to me,” she sneered. “Did you really think I would go out with you?” He asked her out?

“I hear the girls talk,” she continued, “and contrary to popular belief, good things do not come in small packages.” Her voice was strong, like she was completely comfortable in her skin. Everyone caught the joke as she crooked her pinky finger to the amused crowd, insinuating that Madoc had a small dick.

“Thanks for the offer anyway, Madoc,” she said in a sweet sing-song voice.

Picking up her tray, she headed through the crowd, tossed away her lunch, and headed for the doors as every eye in the room followed her. Even mine.

I leaned back again, remembering how she’d cry or just leave every time Madoc or I did something.

Now, it was ten year old Tate again, rocking my fucking world.

She stopped at the double doors, and I narrowed my eyes on her as she turned around, looking straight at me. Her eyes zoned in, killing the distance between us and bringing me dead in her face, so I could smell her skin.

She was everything. She knew my game, she matched me, and she was going to be a joy to take down.

Then, and only then, would I have proven that I didn’t need her or anyone else.

Mr. Sweeney, one of the deans, came through the cafeteria, wanting to know what happened, and I stepped in and explained that Madoc had fallen over a chair. Stupid lie, I know, but teachers don’t have a lot of power. If one kid claims something and others back it up, it must be true. I didn’t want Tate in trouble.

Date: 2015-02-16; view: 732