Good Girls Are Bad Girls That Don't Get Caught

Chapter 19: Don't Get Mad...Get Even

“He hates me, he hates me. Wait, he doesn’t even know me!” my walking slowed to a stop as I frowned and turned my head in every direction. I frantically looked around as I tried to decipher where the voice was coming from (I really hope it’s not coming from my head). Taking a couple of steps back, I placed a hand against the cool metal of a locker as I pressed my ear against it. I jumped away with a little squeak when something scrapped against the metal followed by a muffled sob.

It was the afternoon and I have almost sprinted to my locker to retrieve my Calculus book after I had bene informed that there would be a test on the subject next week.  Not wanting to give the teacher anymore reasons to place me next to Thomas Parker, aka the class fart bomb, I ran to look like I was studying for the damn thing.

After recovering from the small heart attack, I placed my hand against the handle and tried to pull the locker open, when it didn’t budge, I frowned.

“Hello?” a timid voice asked and my mouth dropped open when I recognised the voice and the locker.

“Millie?” i squeaked as I pressed myself against the metal to peak through the little cracks, all I could see was darkness and I gave a big tug, hopping it would open.

There was a loud sound of someone hitting against the locker and Millie spoke up, “Gwen, is that you?” she asked.

“Yeah, tell me your combination.”

I turned the numbers into the dial and pulled it open to reveal Millie squished into her locker, her small figure still cramped. Holding a hand out, I helped pull her out.

“What happened?” I asked as she brushed herself down, her cheeks flushed pink from embarrassment as she closed her locker. Not looking at me, she muttered something making me lean closer.

“What?” I asked.

Millie sighed before lifting her eyes from the floor to look at me, “I was put in their…” she paused and wiped at her nose with the back of her hand, “by my crush.” She finished looking past me.

I frowned and placed a hand against her shoulder, I watched in silence as she crouched down, her shoulders shaking with sobs. “I'm ugly!” she sobbed, “He will never see me as beautiful. I try so hard.” She sniffled and I bent down to pull her into an awkward hug.

“Millie, hey, don’t cry. You are not ugly.” I comforted.

Millie’s sobbed slowly turned into little hiccups and I almost jumped when she looked up at me with black eyes from the smudged makeup. “Really?” she breathed.

I opened my mouth to speak before shaking my head, “You are beautiful but maybe not in this state, you’re starting to resemble a panda, I'm waiting for you to go hunting for bamboo.” Millie cracked a smile and wiped under her eyes.

Nodding to herself, she grabbed my arm pulling me both up. She smiled sheepishly and continued to wipe her face, “I’m sorry, I'm just feeling really emotional and my crush is a jerk to me, he called me ugly and forced me into the locker.”

My first through was ‘why would you crush on someone who is a complete jerk?’ like seriously, you are meant to hate the person who is a complete dick to you.

Instead I chose to nod and I glanced down the hall as I motioned for her to lean forward, “How about you give him something to regret?”

Millie’s eyes widened and she stepped back, her head shaking back and forth. “No, no matter what I do Jake will never notice me, he’s the quarter back for goodness sake, I'm just being stupid.” She tried telling herself making me snort.

“Okay.” I nodded and turned around to carry on walking, “If you change your mind you know my number. Remember Millie making someone notice you is not a crime, looks are not everything but when it comes to people like Jake there is only one thing on his scale, make him regret calling you ugly and putting you in the locker. Don’t get upset, get even.” With a quick wink and a flourish of my hand, I walked off down the hall a knowing smile on my lips.

She would call.

The situation with Millie has been playing on my mind all day and I am beginning to doubt my judgement as I haven’t seen or heard from Millie all day. Was I wrong? Did she not want to get even?

I stared intently at a beer bottle laying down on the glass table hypnotised as the light from the TV flashed off the reflection. I was so focused that I almost missed the vibrating phone on the pillow. Scrambling to pick it up, I smiled when I noticed the caller ID before placing it to my ear with a satisfied smirk.

“Hello?” I asked as I moved from my spot from the floor and to the door. Millie had yet to speak as if she was afraid of the next words.

Quietly, she whispered, “Let’s do this.”