Chapter Sixteen

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Recap: Jamie hit Summer in the nose with a plastic ball and met Aimee, who is an old friend of Luke's. 

A huge thank you to 999_rindee for the adorable cover! :) 

Chapter Sixteen

Jamie Vandeviere

 

Throughout all my years in high school, not once had I ever been called to the principal’s office. Until today. It was a white, stuffy room that smelled like apples and cherries, and the aroma alone made me more fidgety about the whole situation because I couldn’t stand the scent of burnt candles.

After the ball hit Summer in the nose, she let out a piercing wail that could have been heard all the way from California. The entire class went scuttling to her sides, some of them concerned and some of them somewhat excited, and I had to weave my way through the swarm of curious girls surrounding her to inspect the damage that I had done. 

To be honest, it wasn’t that bad. Her nose was red, as were the right side of her face, but it wasn’t bad. It was just a plastic ball, for heaven’s sake, yet she was acting like I just threw a ball of steel at her.

Right after the ‘accident’ happened, I asked her if she was okay but never got around to hearing her response since the next thing that she did was to scream at the top of her lungs and lunge at me like some kind of a psychopath, tugging and pulling my hair frenetically like she had completely lost it. With her manicured nails, she even managed to put scratches on me here and there, though she later claimed it wasn’t intentional.

Then we were called to the office to give Principal Tanner the whole story and to “sort out our differences like adults.” Summer hadn’t made any of that easy with her constant moaning and nagging, and she had threatened me all about five hundred times since I stepped into this room.

“You’ll be hearing from my lawyer,” Summer spat, still pressing the ice pack against her nose like the life of her nose depended on it. “I will sue your ass off.”

I tore my eyes off the tiny sculpture of Abraham Lincoln sitting on Principal Tanner’s desk. Its eyes seemed to follow me wherever I moved, like the Mona Lisa. Creepy.

“I’ve said that I’m sorry, Summer,” I retorted exasperatedly. It was probably my thirtieth or fiftieth apology and I was sick of apologizing to her because all she did, in return, was to curse me to hell or threaten me. I understood why she was mad but it wasn’t like she was completely innocent. She should have been paying attention to the ball in the first place instead of chatting up her friends while we were out there on the field.

“Sorry isn’t going to stop my nose from bruising,” she seethed, her words dripping with venom as they came through her teeth. “What the hell have I ever done to you, Vandeviere?”

“I didn’t mean for the ball to hit you!” I cried in frustration. Gosh! How many times did I have to repeat myself to get her to believe me?

She snorted, throwing me a murderous glare. “Yeah, right. You did that on purpose.”

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