~Chapter Three - Revenge Is Sweet... Or Spicy~

Nothing happened for the first part of Monday. I walked in to school in the morning with my head held high, ignoring the whispers and dirty looks a lot of girls shot me. Some guys nodded appreciatively at my bravery, but others just smirked as if they knew that something bad was coming.

Something for me to look forward to.

Note the sarcasm, by the way.

Cole was in his first-period class with me as usual. He didn’t glance at me, pass me a dirty note, or send any of his cronies in to flush my head down the toilet or something. It was my only class with Cole, and I was thankful. I don't know how much more I could take of being in such a cramped space with a boy like Cole without exploding from fear.

As you could see, I was really regretting what I did Friday night. Sure, when I did it, I felt empowered, like my revenge had been extracted and I had kinda owned Cole in that last comment.

But over the weekend I had come to realize how totally idiotic my actions had been, and how much Cole was gonna kill me when he got his hands on me next.

The first half of the day passed uneventfully. No-one talked to me, hurt me or generally did anything offensive. My guard wasn’t completely down, but I was relaxing ever-so-slightly.

Maybe Cole didn’t want revenge. Maybe he respected the fact that he had started it and I was only giving him payback. I voiced this theory to Matt when I saw him in the halls in between first and second period, but he just looked over at me doubtfully. He didn’t say anything, though, which caused my stomach to curdle.

By lunchtime I had almost completely managed to forget about the glares and rumours directed at me. Hey, if that was the worst I got, I’d take it gracefully. Things could’ve turned out a lot worse.

And they did.

It was the simple cafeteria joke. Oh, how it should’ve been expected. The special today was spicy Mexican food—you know, chilli nachos, burritos, that kind of thing. I just got something from the table that held the everyday foods—I ordered a Caesar salad with croutons. I had no desire to have garlic breath and spinach stuck between my teeth. I'd had enough vicious comments for one day.

Annie was in the library completing some Advanced Biology homework and Matt was quickly going to the Coach’s office to ask Coach Simpson about some kind of football drills. I was going to get my lunch and meet him there, as I usually did when he had to see Coach. When Annie was studying, Matt and I kept each other company, laughing and joking about everything.

I was weaving my way through the crowded cafeteria tables, trying to pick my way through the students towards the doors when it happened.

Naïve, unsuspecting Gracie was too preoccupied with not tripping over her own feet and going splat on the tiled floor to notice the boy with bottleneck-glasses and terrible acne who was only about fourteen or fifteen, a weedy little Mathlete.

He lacked acting skills, so what was meant to look accidental any person could see was really purposely done. He tripped over, and his lunch tray filled with about as much spicy Mexican food as one person could possibly consume, and more, was upended straight onto my sunny yellow dress and leather boots. And let me tell you, that stuff was hot, and my clothes were expensive.

I gasped as the chilli dripped down the neckline of my dress and my face was covered in chilli sauce and corn-chips. The whole tray clattered to the floor with food remnants. When I say remnants, I mean little tiny bits of meat. The rest was all on my dress.

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