"You're going to make me do bad things to you, sweetheart." | Frank Rider is the new teacher. His favourite word is 'detention'. He's iniquitous, rude and vicious. To get on his bad side would be suicide. Unfortunately for Cleo, she's already dived...
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CHAPTER XLVI
"Hey," I greeted Winnie with a puzzled furrow of my brows, pushing my hand through my hair to comb it away and tugging on a plain baseball cap over the mess, "I told you to wait for me. Mr. Rider gave me a detention slip. My record is a sheet of pink slips at this point. He's an asshole."
"I have to go pick up Megan from her activities club." Winnie said abruptly, slamming her locker shut and picking up her backpack to swing over her shoulder. Almond eyes flickered to me briefly and then looked away with disdain, her mouth was a downwards tilt, a mixture between a scowl and a frown. "See you later." Her manner was disrespectful, dismissing me with a cold shoulder.
"Did I do something wrong?" I asked, irritated by her attitude. I concealed my emotions and plastered on a befuddled and hesitant smile, keeping my tone levelled. "Winnie," I grabbed her forearm.
Almost violently, she shrugged my hand away. Her jaw was clenched as she said, voice hard. "I haveto go."
"Jesus, Winnie, what the hell is wrong with you? Tug that stick out of your ass, it's causing you to walk funny. Clearly something is bothering you. Will you spit it out already? I'm not going to guess. I dislike guessing games. So?"
She deliberated and almost favoured the thought of walking away, and then just as she took a step, she twirled around, close to exploding, barking her furious words, expression twisted into anger. "Alright! You really wanna know? Fine. I am so–" she emphasised, holding her thumb and forefinger together in a pinch "–close to giving up on you. I thought you changed but I guess I was wrong. When you first arrived here a year or so ago, you were an ass, a bully. You sneered and belittled everyone you passed. You picked on the younger years and you'd attack them for no good reason. You were a despicable person. But I gave you a chance, I thought, hey, she's probably got shit going on at home and she's lashing out at others in a means to gain control back, and to feel good about her low self-esteem. It took time. You were stubborn and reluctant to change but you did. Eventually you became the person I loved, someone I could call family. And I do love you, Cleo. But lately, it's like you don't give a damn. I don't know what the hell is wrong with you. You walk around and it's clear you don't want to be here. You openly despise others and speak with malice on your tongue and hatred in your gaze. You're chockful of anger and I don't recognise you anymore. In all honesty, you terrify me sometime. Like the way you talk of Oran and your lack of sympathy for the death of her sister and the way you were attacking her in class today, it was cruel. It was unjust and iniquitous. It was fucked up. What the hell is the matter with you, Cleo?"
"I'm having a bad day," I disregarded her plea to understand, and carelessly shrugged, searching the crowds of students for Irvin. I needed a smoke after Winnie's lengthy paragraph of bullshit.
"It's not only today, it's more than–"
"Correction: I'm having a bad fucking week. Will you quit it, Winnie? My mom passed a little over two weeks ago. Cut me some fucking slack. Sorry if I'm not happy and so full of joy like you, so sorry I can't flash a smile at others and offer half of my cookie like you, the brilliant saint. I don't give a fuck about Oran. Her sister died. So what? My mom's dead. You don't see anyone throwing me a pity party, do you? I've changed my mind, I don't care to untuck your thong from your ass crack. It's not my problem. Go ahead. Be mad. I'm out."
