FOUR

What the hell?

It gave off an eerie feeling.

Why did she look at me as if I stole something from her?

I was getting a sudden stare from his twin brother. My body was feeling hot that I couldn't move an inch.

"Was she worth it, bro?" asked a grinning Liam.

"I did what she asked," Logan sighed and rubbed his neck, unhappy.

"If you don't want her, I can get it with her," Liam smirked. "I heard she's the Queen Bee of the school. If you were to hit that off, that would increase the popularity rate here."

"Why do I need to be concerned about being popular?" Logan says annoyingly.

"It's not much of a difference back at home. We will rule the school with our fucking good looks. I mean, all the babes here are gorgeous."

That is my cue to leave.

I didn't want to hear these guys talk about getting it with the girls in this school, and I didn't want to be part of it.

I felt my stomach churn from all the lunch that I had eaten. I immediately packed up my stuff, rose off the concrete floor, and began to walk away, hiding the tomato face spreading on my face.

"Hey," I felt my arm tug back and frightened me. "Where do you think you are going? I panicked and swallowed.

I wince at the weight of his hand wrapped around my arm. He took notice of my discomfort and loosened his grip.

"Come on, Logan, don't scare her."

"I'm not scaring her," Logan says softly as he lets me go. "We were disturbing her lunch. Let's go, Liam. You. Stay." He looked and ordered me as if I were a weak puppy complying with what my master had to say. He found it amusing that I obeyed him and lifted a smirk upon his face.

I wanted to say something, but I hugged my bag against my chest as Logan stuck his hands in his jean pockets, turned around, and walked to the door.

"Sorry about my twin." Liam smiled. "He just felt that girl didn't feel right with him, if you know what I mean." He wiggles his brows, then chuckles at my cherry-red face, says goodbye, and follows his twin.

I stood there unsure of what just happened, but it felt like Logan was being a gentleman and not only disturbed my lunch break by bringing girls up here to have sex. He seemed cold at first, but he had a gentle side when he talked to me.

I shook my head.

What the hell am I thinking?

I felt insecure and decided to end my lunch early and head back to spend my days inside the library and hope I don't run into Logan and his brother again inappropriately.

It was almost the end of the day, and I had two more classes. I had myself go to the bathroom, did my business as I heard some girls come inside, and when I was about to flush. A bucket of water poured down on me, and laughter erupted in the whole bathroom, echoing in my ear.

I opened the stall door and stepped out, drenched, facing in front of Paris and her two friends, Brittany and Tiffany. Not twins have a similar name, just like in the movie The Hot Chick.

I inwardly groan, looking at her. She had a full-on smirk of evilness that I'm pretty damn sure was her doing. The bucket they used to cover me with water was used for mopping the floor by the janitor.

They drenched me with dirty water and smelled like it too.

Motherfucking great!

"That is payback for sending me to the principal's office, bitch," Paris snapped, her friends' snickers having fun messing with someone and following the one person half of the females in this school hates. "Not only a curse, but a smelly one too."

She kicked the bucket leaving the woman's restroom, and her friends followed. I stand there, soaked in unsanitary water. My hair and clothes now smell like dirt. I approached the sink and looked at the mirror. I grabbed a handful of my hair and twisted it to release a bit of dirty water, then replaced it with the water from the sink, washing my whole hair until it could no longer smell like the floor and shoes. Digging into my bag, I pulled a packet of traveling shampoo, Sunsilk, that smells like strawberry yogurt, sent by my older cousin, Claire, from England when she visited the Philippines one summer.

Cut through the aluminum-plastic to squeeze the pink soft liquid into my hand and shampooed my hair. After a few minutes of getting my whole hair from the top and bottom roots, rinse with the running water, then let my hair sit drenched. The school doesn't have an eco-friendly hand dryer, and paper towels aren't such a big help. As for my clothes, I never thought I would be covered in mop water because I avoid Paris shenanigans. Still, today I did get into her business when she was talking with the Wolfe twins and had her sent to the principal's office, which is her cause of pouring dirty mop water on me. 

Fixing my wet hair into a messy bun, playing with my bangs, then making sure no one would enter the bathroom, I had all my clothes off and started squeezing the mop water out of my clothes. It won't be all gone, but at least I couldn't wear wet clothes to the fifth period. I clutched my clothes one by one, squeezing the water out, when I heard the five-minute bell ring. No time for my clothes to be dry, I had to improvise by rushing to the girl's locker room and pulling out my P.E. uniform. With an extra plastic bag inside my locker, I put my wet clothes inside and ran out, heading towards fifth-period theater, the one class I avoided and hated at the beginning of high school.

I had to take the class, it's a requirement for graduation. It was either a woodshop or theatre. I couldn't do woodshop since I'm not the best in crafts involving woodshop. Besides, I hate sharp objects poking me. The thought of a blade spinning made me think of the car accident.

Before I woke from a coma, I heard Athena talking to the doctors, stating I was covered in window shards in the hazard during the crash and she had to put stitches on the deep ones. So, anything sharp like a blade or broken window shards could make you feel uneasy in the stomach. That is why I wear clothes that cover my body to prevent anyone, including my family, from seeing the scars I left just when I was a little girl. I would have thought that as I grew up, the injuries would go away,, but only a few had stayed, the ones deep inside me to remind me how guilty I am for my parent's death.