tone in my matter-of-fact answer is too telling, and Violet’s eyes snap back to me with surprise.
“Really? Gwen doesn’t strike me as someone who would hide her feelings. She certainly hasn’t been shy about making it clear she doesn’t like me.”
“What do you mean? Did she say or do something to you?”
This is the first I’m hearing about Gwen and Violet having any kind of interaction, let alone a confrontation.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle. Just nasty glares and mumbled comments under her breath when she literally bumps into me at school.”
I’ll be damned. Is Gwen jealous of Violet?
It’s the only explanation that makes sense. I’ve never seen Gwen be aggressive toward someone without being provoked, and there’s no way sweet-natured Violet did anything to her.
This could be a piece of the puzzle that I’ve been missing. The first message I received from Phantom Girl was right after Violet and I started getting close. So much so, I was beginning to question my feelings for her. Then I got wrapped up with the girl hiding behind a screen.
Gwen knows me well enough to determine Violet was different. Special. But why did she care? She’s the one who carelessly tossed me aside. I assumed her motivation behind catfishing me was simply to hurt me. But this makes me question her reasoning. Maybe there was a different driving force behind her actions.
“Interesting,” I muse, unable to stop my smile. “I’ll be sure to have a chat with her about that.”
“Don’t you go stirring up trouble,” she scolds, tossing a piece of greenery my way. “It’s not that big of a deal. She’s not the only girl who started treating me like a target once the rumors began swirling about my involvement with Thatcher.”
She isn’t wrong there. When Thatcher stopped fighting his feelings for Saint, he warned her the wolves would descend. And it didn’t take them long. Every asshole guy suddenly wanted a piece of her, which didn’t sit well with the queen bees.
But if Gwen has a problem with Violet, it doesn’t involve Thatcher. Gwen and Thatcher didn’t get along as kids, both of them jealous of the time I spent with the other. She still looks at him as if he stole her favorite toy and broke it.
If Gwen’s issue with Violet is about her relationship with me, I can use it to my advantage. Getting Gwen to expose herself will be much more entertaining than doing the job myself. This could mean she still cares about me. If I find out her intentions weren’t malicious, it would definitely change the game; but I want answers.
She needs to look me in the eye and tell me why she stomped on my heart when it also meant breaking her own.
Chapter Eight
6 years old
COLE
My stomach knots as I walk out to the playground. It’s only my second week at this school, and I already hate Westbrook. The kids here are awful. They call me E. Coli. I asked my mom what it meant, and she said it was a bad bacterium that makes people sick. But I didn’t tell her that’s what people at school were calling me because I don’t want her to worry.
Mom seems happier here. We both were until school started. Gwen isn’t so bad. We’ve actually become close. Her parents are nice, too. They even bought me some new clothes for school.
But here, I get pushed and shoved when no one’s looking. They make fun of me for being poor and skinny.
Gwen’s my only friend, and things aren’t much better for her. The kids tease her, calling her fat. No one takes up for her, they all just laugh. Even the girls she calls her friends.
I’m too thin and she’s too big. When they see us together, they call us the number ten.
Someone pushes me from behind, sending me to my knees in the muddy dirt. Laughter erupts around me as I struggle to get back on my feet. The new jeans Lydia and Mark bought me are stained with two brown circles now.
I turn to face the person responsible, my teeth gritted, fists curled. The boy crosses his arms and smiles at me. Shane Donavan is the biggest and worst bully at Westbrook Elementary.
“If it isn’t E. Coli the scarecrow.”
Before I have a chance to defend myself, Gwen comes running to my side. “Leave him alone, Shane.”
My heartbeat tickles in my chest. But I scowl at her, trying to brush the mess off my hands. Taking up for me