Page 57

Story: From the Ashes

“What? Why?”
“I don’t know, Phoenix. You tell me. Did you tell them I drugged you?” He lowers his voice, his eyes narrowing.
“No! I never said that to them. I have no idea who did it.” The thought of someone having that control over me, being able to take advantage of me, makes me sick.
Chad looks at me like he’s waiting for me give away any sign that I did indeed tell the kings it was him.
“Well you sure seem chummy with them. They ran out of my house carrying you. I heard they even whisked you away at the party this weekend. Say, did they have their way with you when they took you from my party? Did they fill each of your holes? They seem pretty protective of a slut like yourself. I kinda feel cheated that I didn’t get any of that golden pussy—”
My hand slaps him across the face, and the echo grabs the attention of the few students that are in the dining hall.
“I was fucking drugged! The fact that you can sit here and make it my fault shows me who you really are. Calling me a slut, when I was given something that took away any control that I had over myself, is disgusting. I thought you were different. Not like the others. I was wrong. Stay away from me, Chad.” I stand up and grab my bag. And of course, I can’t help but get one last thing in. “Oh, and even if you had a giant golden cock, I wouldn’t sleep with you. Creep isn’t my type.”
I hear a low growl behind me, but I dump my plate and exit through the door to my first class. U.S. Government. With Mason. I’m so not in the mood for bullshit. His bullshit, in particular.
When I get to class, I keep my head down and head over to my desk. Again, no whispers or words are being thrown at me since the party Friday. I’m a little skeptical, but I’ll take the reprieve.
As I sit down, I can feel him come into the room. The hair on the back of my neck stands up as if they know Mason walked into the room. I sit forward and try to not make any eye contact.
Mason slides into his seat, and I sigh. I lean over the left side of my desk and pick up my bag, placing it on the desk. I root around inside for my iPad but my hand touches something else. It’s sharp point poking my finger.
Folded paper?
I pull out the foreign object. It’s a red origami-shaped phoenix. Where the hell did this come from? I slowly look over it and see that there is some sort writing on the back. With caution, I start to undo the folds so I can read what has been written on it. Letting out a gasp, my hands shaking I drop the note onto my bag like its burning hot.
You’ve been a naughty girl, Phoenix.
“Hey, Red, you all right?” Mason leans over and grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. “What’s wrong? You tensed up all of a sudden.”
I reach over and hand him the paper. He reads it, his brows pulling inward.
“It was in my bag. I didn’t notice it until just now.” I say as I wrap my arms around me. A sick twisting in my stomach forms as I try to remember if I had left my bag anywhere this morning. I know I didn’t.
“This was in your bag?” I nod as he looks over the handwriting again. “And I take it you have no idea who it’s from.”
“If I did, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be repulsed and scared out of my mind like I am.”
“All right, class. I graded the tests from Friday,” Mr. Patterson’s voice booms over the class as he sets his laptop and bag down on the desk. “For the majority of you, well done. For those who didn’t, you better study harder next test. Miss Hayes, please stay after class.”
Stay after class? That’s never a good sign.
When class does finally end, Mason jumps out of his seat and storms off. It’s only then that I realize he never gave me back the offending note. At least he’s in my next class, so I can grab it back from him then.
Gathering up my things and putting them back into my bag, I head down to see Mr. Patterson. My nerves are a little uneasy as I make my way up to his desk.
“Mr. Patterson, you wanted to see me?”
“Can you explain to me why you got a zero on your exam?” He throws the printed answers down on the table, and I take a look at them.
“Wait, what?”
“Your answers are answers from last year’s test. How did you get last year’s test, and did you not think that I would change up the questions and switch them around?” He leans back in his chair, his lips purse and eyes narrow at me.
“Mr. Patterson, I didn’t have last year’s test. And, yeah, I know my name is on this, but I … these aren’t my answers. I mean the questions are right, but these answers aren’t what I wrote.”
“Highly unlikely, Miss Hayes.”
“I didn’t cheat. This isn’t my test.” I swallow the frustration in my voice down. I’m trying not to lose it with this guy, but he’s accusing me of something I didn’t do.