down their throat in a dirty supply closet.
The thought should have made me roll my eyes with contempt and disgust, but all my body could conjure up was burning jealousy. Goddamn Sebastian Roman fucking Beckett was still under my skin.
After the class finished I hung around as long as humanly possible before entering the locker rooms. As badly as I wanted to skip the whole showering and changing situation, I smelled. Bad. The amount of effort it had taken to evade the worst of the attacks during volleyball had left me sweating and exhausted.
“Hello?” I called out cautiously as I peered around the seemingly empty locker room. “Anyone in here?”
No sound came back to me except the dripping of the showers. I’d managed to kill a solid twenty minutes slowly packing up the volleyball equipment and it was already well into the next class period so I’d have been surprised if anyone else was still here. Still, it didn’t hurt to check.
Quickly as I could, I checked all cubicles to verify that I was indeed alone, then grabbed my stuff and locked myself into a shower. Only once the little bolt clicked over did I let out the breath I was holding.
“Fuck me,” I muttered under my breath as I stripped off my sweaty sports clothes and hung them on the back of the door. “This social outcast shit is exhausting.”
I took my time in the shower because, screw it. I was already so late for my next class that I may as well take my time. It wasn’t until I’d dried off and pulled on my underwear that I noticed.
“Fuck,” I cursed, holding up my uniform. Someone had taken to it with a pair of scissors or a knife or something, because my skirt was shredded into ribbons and my shirt was full of holes. I hadn’t noticed when I’d grabbed it from my locker because it’d been tucked into the top of my bag where I’d left it.
A rustle of fabric was all the warning I got, a split second before a hand darted over the top of my shower door and snatched my sweaty sports uniform—leaving me with nothing to wear.
“Hey!” I yelled, slamming the door open and racing out to try and catch the clothing thief. “Of course it’s you,” I sneered, spotting Brittley—Beck’s fake girlfriend and all around town bicycle—standing by the door, holding my clothes up like a trophy.
“I knew this day would come,” she crowed, her eyes gleaming in triumph.
I arched a brow, propping my hands on my hips and giving her a withering glare. “What day? Seeing me in my underwear? I had no idea you were so into chicks, Butters.”
Her cheeks heated and a small scowl formed between her brows. “It’s Brittley, you fucking weirdo. And I meant I was waiting for the day Beck and his boys retracted their protection of you. You’re fair fucking game now.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed.
Brittley’s face boiled with rage. “You think this is funny?” she screeched. “I’m not joking around. I’m going to destroy you and there’s nothing you can do about it!”
“You really think so?” I challenged her, not able to wipe the smirk from my face. “Try it. I guarantee it’s not going to work out how you think it will.”
A brief moment of indecision crossed her face before she tilted her chin up in ignorant stubbornness. “You think I’m bluffing? I’ll show you.” She spat the words at me like a curse, then stepped backward out of the locker rooms—taking my clothes with her.
I heaved a sigh and mentally cursed myself out. I just had to push her. Why couldn’t I have kept my trap shut and lured her closer until I could grab my clothes back? Now I was going to have to face the whole school in nothing but my French lace panties and bra. At least it was a cute set.
Chewing my lip, I debated wrapping back up in my towel, then quickly dismissed it. Brittley and her crew were seeking to humiliate me, so I couldn’t show them even the slightest bit of embarrassment.
Rolling my shoulders, I sucked in a deep breath, pulled up my metaphorical big girl panties, and barged out of the locker room. Right into the middle of the crowd gathered around Brittley—who kept sneaking glances at Katelyn Huntley like she was seeking validation from the new girl.
Somehow in my exchange with Brittley, I’d missed the fact that the end of class bell