Page 42 of Satan's Spawn

Crayton grumbles something under his breath, then kicks my bag over before walking off, making my school supplies spill out again.

Prick.

“See you later, skank.” Alexis stands before me, popping a bubble with her gum and tossing the wrapper on my head like it’s a trash can.

I can feel my face reddening with rage as Archer picks up the tiny papers and launches them at Alexis. He watches her follow behind her master, heels clicking.

I’m too lost in my anger to look anywhere else but down at the floor.

I really fucking hate them.

“C’mon, let’s get you out of here.” Archer collects my things then helps me up gently before checking out my hand.

I’m moving it so I know it’s not broken, unlike my spirit.

I don’t know which hurts worse.

“I hate it here,” I admit, but Archer only nods, wrapping an arm around me as we journey side by side away from the crowds whispering behind us.

* * *

Thank God for physical education,and for the track lines I’m sitting on at the moment.

My research on Riverside told me it’s one of the only schools in Manhattan housing an actual football and track field because of it being built in the 1800s. The school has been updated since, of course, and what was once open land in the back has been transformed into an outdoor sports field many years ago. The Riverside Royals have been showing their gratitude by being one of the best varsity football teams in the country.

They’ve been ranked in the top ten for the past eight years straight. The field may not be as big as some others around the country, but it’s enough to build a very solid team of athletes. Most of which are on the other side of the field right now, wearing black football jerseys and white tights clinging to their legs as the coach goes through some sort of speech.

Very tight leggings, may I add.

That shows all the muscles and goods.

Not that I’m paying attention.

I’m just excited to be able to use the area as a means of exercise. And from the looks of how this day went, stress management.

In less than six hours I’ve become some misfit toy who doesn’t belong.

A reject.

An outcast.

Well, on that I guess they’re right. I don’t belong here any more than Iwantto be here, and it shows now more than ever.

Especially since I’ve become fair game to every single guy in this building looking for the new girl to cat call, which is not only poor taste, but ridiculous since apparently I have avenereal disease.

Idiots.

We already know how horrible things are going with the females, the new shirt I bought from the school store speaks for itself.

And then there’shim. The sadistic asshole who nearly crushed my hand with his stupid platform boots.

And it’s only the first freaking day.

I want to go home.

And I don’t mean the condo.

I don’t know what the hell I did to any of these people to make them so damn ruthless toward me. Especially Crayton. I don’t even know him, but I do know I never want to.