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None of them want to hear that it’s the Ballers’ fault. They’re the kings, and we’re all just peasants. Or, we’re supposed to be.
I shake my head. “I didn’t realize you guys would be this petty. I’m glad you care where I park.”
“I’d like to park my cock inside her pussy,” Lake says. “You said she was tight, right Ry?”
I whip around, glaring at Ryan. He did not tell them we had sex. That’s a straight up lie.
Ryan sneers. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t put my dick anywhere near her. She’s not good enough for me.”
My jaw locks. I turn around, my face flaming, and head back toward my car. Out of everything they’ve said, that one probably hurt the worst. Once inside, I shut the door only to look out and see that all five are in front of me again. They’re serious about this. I shake my head, check my rearview mirror, then put the car in reverse and back up, giving me some space to turn around. I take a left out of the parking lot, ignoring all the cheers and insults thrown my way. I only catch the Ballers moving aside for the rest of the cars, motioning them inside like they truly do get to decide who goes to the school and who doesn’t.
Once the line going the other way clears, I take a left into the faculty parking lot. It’s clearly labeled that no students are allowed to park there, but where the hell else am I going to park? I’m certainly not just going to go home like they want me to. Not happening.
The warning bell rings just after I shut the car off. I sit back in my seat and stare up at the brick building. So unimposing. If people only knew what goes on inside. I’m not surprised the Ballers get away with this shit. They’re loved all over this town. Free food at the restaurants. Free films at the theater. They’re practically the kings of this town. Part of me is disgusted, the other part of me is a little jealous. I only hope they’ve peaked. As soon as I think it, I know it’s not true though. These guys are damn good. I can’t even bring myself to say they don’t deserve all the accolades they get because they do. That doesn’t mean they’re not shitty humans though.
My phone buzzes again, and I take it out.WARNING!Dawn sent.The Ballers aren’t going to let you park in the lot.That was her first text. The next one just says,you ok?
In response, I shove my car door open and step out, dragging my bag with me. There’s no time for me to go to my locker before homeroom, so I hightail it there instead. I run into the room just as the bell rings. Every single person in the room is staring at me now. It’s not that curious stare they had yesterday, it’s the ‘she’s enemy number one’ stare. I walk straight back, trying to ignore them all, but when I get to the seat I sat in yesterday, it’s wrapped in yellow caution tape.
“Funny,” I breathe out.
Snickers ascend over the room. Rolling my eyes, I pull at the tape and wad it up, throwing it on the floor next to me. With the same calm face, I sit only to have a note thrown on my desk.
CAUTION
Note to all Rockport High guys. Don’t fuck Tessa Dale.
She’ll get pregnant on purpose to trap you.
Like mother like daughter.
The area behind my eyes burns as I read and re-read the note. It isn’t the first time I’ve heard some shit like that. Hell, the media likes to bring it up every once in a while. I was five, I think, the first time I had this talk with my parents. They explained to me how the media makes up shit to sell magazines and newspapers.
For the record, my mom didn’t trap my dad. It just took them a while to conceive me: Quintessa Marie Dale. Named because I was born the year my dad got his fifth championship ring.
The raucous laughter all around me as I stare at the note tells me no one else would believe me if I tell them the truth. They’re probably just happy the Ballers are picking on me instead of one of them.
Well, fuck them all.
7
The rest of the day is just like homeroom. Every single one of my chairs in every period is outfitted just like the first one. By the time last period rolls around, I just sit right on the caution tape, wait for the note to get thrown my way, and then flick it off my desk. That wasn’t all of it either. There’s been a note on my locker every single time I stopped by today. There it is in big, bold letters, telling everyone not to fuck me. In the halls, guys give me a wide berth and the girls laugh knowingly. When I pass the bulletin board outside the library, there’s an even bigger sign printed with the same information. I just wonder who let them use one of the faculty printers to print that shit out. The teachers have no semblance of control here. That much is obvious.
Dawn, though, partners with me in gym. We’re in the gymnastics curriculum, so it’s just trying to see what we can do from forward rolls to back flips. Afterward, Dawn follows me out toward the faculty exit, but Vice Principal Holden is standing at the front entry glass doors with his hands crossed over his chest. “Miss Dale,” he starts.
My stomach sinks. I think about all the shit I put up with today and wonder if the Ballers have tried something else, or if I’m somehow going to be blamed for all the crass posters over the entire school.
“You no doubt saw the sign explaining that this entry and this lot is for faculty only, yes?”
My eyebrows draw in.
He lifts his brows expectantly, then turns around to point at my Mustang. “That is your car, isn’t it?”
“Y-yes,” I tell him.
“And did you realize that was the faculty parking lot?”
I go to tell him yes, of course I did, but Dawn elbows me. Instead, I say nothing as his gaze sears into mine.