Bite Me

Chapter 3 - With Compliments

A strange urge to punch Holland Richie rushed through my body. Not only did I want my fist to collide with her nose, I wanted to see her make-up go everywhere when she cried.
Positive thinking, right?
Although she claimed I was being a slut with the bitey-boy, Holland didn’t bother wiping away the saliva that was about to run off her chin like a waterfall.
Although I wanted to stare at bitey-boy’s lickable face, I slipped my phone out of my pocket and snapped a picture of Holland’s face.
Her attention snapped toward me and she jumped from her seat, growling, “I’m going to kill you.”
I smirked, “Sweetie, you can’t kill somebody who’s socially dead.”
Holland opened her mouth to speak.

“Be careful for what comes out of your mouth, Miss Richie,” Mr Smithers glared, walking over to talk to bitey-boy, who stood out in the hallway.
I turned in my seat, “I’d be more careful about what was in your mouth.”
Bitchy Tampon’s jaw dropped and I suddenly pictured an oompa-loompa crawling into her mouth.

Not disturbing at all.

“I’d watch it,” Holland warned and I found myself shrugging, “I’d recommend you have some more fibre, cause there’s still a stick up your ass.”

I turned in triumph, and suddenly the world seemed to brighten up a little.

KIDDING! My session of detention had increased my chance of being publicly embarrassed. Can I get an enthusiastic ‘yay’?

Mr Smithers was no-where in sight and I found myself glancing around the room. Holland was no longer at her desk and I snapped my eyes around.

What if she kills me?
What if she pours all of her make-up products on me and I become a plastic Barbie doll? I shuddered internally.

I heard her shoes tap on the floor. Snapping my head in the direction of the noise, I saw Holland quietly stepping for the window.

“Richie,” I hissed, as quietly as I could. Her eyes sharpened as she held a finger over her lips: SHUT UP!

Her fingers clasped the handle and she carefully pushed it open.

Had she done this before?

Holland quickly threw her leg over the window sill then the other.

My eyes scanned the room before I crept to the window where I saw her squatting on the ledge.

It squeaked as she moved her weight to her other foot and jumped for the tree-branch which extended close to the building.

I snatched my bag from my desk and checking over my shoulder, I rose my eyebrow.

I felt my fingers grasp the window sill as I threw my legs over to stand on the ledge.

Steps echo the classroom and I immediately squat, like Holland had. With what little space was there, I used my arms to pull myself forward, away from the window.

SNAP!

I turn onto my back and I immediately saw green eyes. Bitey-Boy. His eyes rested on me and I glared as a response. A smirk twitched at the corner of his lips and he turned, closing the window.

“Nothing,” I heard him say.
“Parker?” I heard Mr Smithers ask, “Why did you check out there?”
“Strange idea.” Bitey-boy – Parker, sounded as if he were shrugging.
“Right.”

I sat by the edge of the ledge, letting my legs hand over. I didn’t want to jump. I hated heights. I mean, seriously, who wants to plummet to the ground.

Whoops, look, you’re dead!

I sighed and squatted on the edge.

One. Two. Three.