It's That Biker Chick

[22] Déjà Vu

[Chapter 22]
Déjà Vu

I snuggled more into the oversized black jacket — it draped over my shoulders heavily, as if it was wearing me instead. I smiled to myself, inhaling the fresh new leather scent as I thought of my mom.

"Hey, loner!"

I shut my eyes in frustration at the familiar voice, this time letting out a loud deep sigh of irritation. I looked up to Tommy, only to see him with his usual smirk plastered on his face, along with a few of his carbon copies behind him. I looked past him and his little posse, confirming my suspicions when I saw Rachel and her friends whispering and snickering to each other as they 'subtly' glanced over at me.

I rolled my eyes and softly scoffed, knowing that she was the one who set Tommy up to torment me since she was too much of a scaredy-cat to do so herself — like she always did. And knowing Tommy, who everyone knew had a huge, fat crush on Rachel, he'd do anything to give her a reason to go out with him.

The large leather jacket was suddenly snatched off of me, easy for them to do so especially since it was hanging so loosely around my shoulders. I instantly stood up from the unexpected action, narrowing my eyes when I saw the jacket in Tommy's hands.

"Give it back!" I screamed at him, which earned the attention of everyone in class since I'd always keep to myself whenever either Tommy or Rachel decided it was fun to bully me.

Tommy cocked an eyebrow and smirked, slightly impressed. "Oh wow, so the motherless freak could speak." He rhymed, riling up a few laughs from his squad. He then threw the jacket around his shoulders, pulling the sleeves up his arm through the armholes. "You know, I think I'm going to keep this. It looks so much better on a boy, don't you think?" I frowned in return, which only widened his grin even more.

"I'm going to say it one more time." I growled, my hands balling up into fists, trying to control my anger by digging my fingernails into the flesh of my palms. "Give me my jacket back."

Tommy looked at me with wide, surprised eyes then started laughing hysterically, causing everyone else in class to follow suit — even though they were just as puzzled as I was. He wiped a fake tear from his cheek and grinned at me. I glared at him, still a little confused but still just as furious.

"Or else what? What are you going to do about it?" He sneered, taking a step towards me as he crossed his arms.

I scowled at him, utter hatred flashed through my eyes, the wrinkle between my eyebrows now becoming deeper as my eyebrows knitted together resentfully.

"What? You're gonna go crying to your mommy?" He teased, then stopped and smirked. "Oh, that's right. Your mom's dead—"

Everything went by in a blur and the next thing I knew, I was on the floor on top of Tommy, slapping his face as hard as I could. Despite having his arms held up before his face in attempt to shield himself from every punch I threw, he was utterly defenceless. Everyone just stood in a circle around us, too shocked to do anything as they watched me rip out strands off his hair while Tommy screeched out in pain.

Soon enough, I was pulled off of Tommy, who now had terrible scratches all over his face and arms along with some minor bald spots all over his scalp. I breathed out in heavy and sporadic pants, my chest heaving up and down as the adrenaline was still running through my veins. Another teacher rushed to Tommy's side, whose eyes were welled up with tears of humiliation. I smiled smugly in satisfaction, not once caring about the murmurs floating in the air or the wide-eyed stares.