Trouble at Brayshaw High (Brayshaw, #2)(15)

I glare, tracking every swing of her step. Her steps carrying her straight to the boys’ table.

I jerk from my chair before Collins can stop me and swiftly move toward her.

I purposely step forward as she does, causing her to bump right into me, not missing the way the noise dies down the second I do.

She’s jolted back, and I’m nudged to the side slightly, but I recover easier than her.

Her cheer bag falls from her shoulders and she growls, looking from it to me, but her eyes widen just the slightest when she sees I’m the one she ‘bumped’ into.

“Watch out,” she snaps, but I smirk when her fingertips instinctively move to the tips of her itty bitty ponytail.

“How you likin’ the short look?” I goad her.

Her hand swiftly falls to her side and she stands tall. “Love it,” she lies through a nasty grin. “Thanks for the cut.”

“Anytime,” I say back, but I feel my eyes hardening the longer we stand here.

I take a step closer, and a zing shoots up my back, wrapping around my shoulders and making my head buzz.

Yes, I missed this feeling.

Her pupils grow, I can only imagine how my eyes have changed to evoke fear in the ice queen.

I’ve got a lot built up and haven’t let it out in a cool minute.

My body is tingling to, begging me to snap so it can crash – the troubles of virtually no sleep in days.

“Back off, Raven,” she whispers, her body leaning away while her feet stay planted.

I should. She only knocked into me, and because I made sure it happened while also making sure it looked like it was her fault, but we girls are as smart as we are dumb. They’ll understand.

“It’s Rae.” I snatch her bag off the floor and toss it in the garbage can beside me. “And I can’t do that.”

She gasps and darts forward, but I slide in front of her.

I stuff my hand in the side of my dress, pulling what I need out of the waist of my bottoms, making sure to close my fist around it so she can’t see. I hold my hand out over the garbage can.

“What are you doing...” She edges closer but freezes when a darkness passes over me. “My uniform is in there.”

Without taking my eyes off hers, I slide my lighter up and blindly flick the flame on.

Her stare snaps between me and the flame as she nervously licks her lips, attempting – and failing – to give a careless shrug. “Whatever, I’ll just pull out a replacement.”

I nod lightly, hiding my annoyance for not considering that beforehand, but when she shifts from one foot to the next, I tilt my head.

“No harm, then, hm?” I bait her quietly, my hand dropping an inch closer.

“Yeah, but—” She reacts before she can stop herself, clamping her mouth shut before more can be said.

A chill runs through me, and I drop my hand until the flame touches the edge of the bag folded over the edges.

She fights it, I give her that, but her bravado cracks, her shallow breathing giving her panic away. “Wait! Our signs are in there! Our music, props, everything we need!”

When I give her nothing, her eyes grow glossy, both anger and frustration front and center.

She’s angry because she knows she can’t stop me. “We fly out tomorrow night. There is no way we can replace all that in time!”

A better person would feel bad, pull away and let her digging in the trash be enough to get the point across.

He’s mine.

“We worked all four years toward this!” she shrieks, shifting forward but freezing in place when my glare intensifies.

The smell of burnt plastic fills my nostrils, and I inhale deeply. It only takes another second for a napkin to catch and in an instant, the entire thing is on fire.

There’s shouting and screeches across the room, but I simply put the lighter back in my waistband, wait another minute until the crackling of the metal zipper can be heard as the flame fights its way through her bag, and then step aside.

She darts forward, but she can’t do anything, it’s as good as ash.

“Should have said, please,” I mock her, and she growls through her angry tears behind me.

She knows it wouldn’t have mattered.

Principal Perkins bounds around the corner as if he was already close by and watching, headed right for me, but to my surprise, he drops back when he sees Collins step up first, not even flinching when Collins is gripping my upper arm hard enough to leave a bruise. “You’re gonna pay for that, Carver.”

“Kiss my ass, Graven.”

A hostile chuckle leaves him, and he hisses in my ear, “Oh you’ll be kissing something, in seconds in fact. I know what the fuck you just did and why. Reassurance is needed now.”

“I don’t—”

I’m cut off when I’m shoved into the lockers and a hard right hook shoots across Collins’ jaw.

He falls back, banging against the metal beside me.

Collins spits and rushes for Maddoc who holds his hands out, inviting him in.

Students hear the commotion and rush into the hall, but Captain and Royce create a brick wall, forcing them back and slam the cafeteria doors closed.

When I hear a deep groan, my eyes snap back to the two.

Collins nails Maddoc in the gut, but he laughs and bends slightly, gripping Collins under the leg and behind the shoulder. He lifts him, slamming him sideways into the wall before letting him crash to the floor with a loud thud.