animosity . charade . clue

c a s s i u s .

"you are young
and broken
covered in scars"

It makes you angry, it’s simmering in your belly, the bubbles hitting against your chest as your cheeks burn red. Your head aches, and you’re sure there’s a lump where it had collided with the lockers, maybe even some bruising tomorrow. At first, you avert your gaze, keeping it down low and away from Cleo hoping it’ll get her to just leave. you. alone.

But just like always -it doesn’t. She doesn’t budge, instead she shoves a stack of papers into your arms. The purr in her voice and words are spoken in typical Cleo fashion. In fact, you’ve almost become used to the way that she speaks, none of the insults are new, more like recycled ones with different words. You think maybe she’d come up with something smarter or wittier if she was a writer like you. She’s not.

You can tell by the way that she speaks, holds herself to a level of snide remarks that fall in a category of the typical high school bully. She’s nothing new and no one special, just like every other person you had met who tries to beat you into the ground. There’s nothing that hurts about the words she says this time, a reflection of the same biting slaps she’d driven into you time and time again.

Glancing down at the papers, you shuffle them into a neat pile, tucking them under your arm as you meet Cleo’s gaze. You think she’d be prettier if she wasn’t such a bitch. Right now she looks as good as a troll, buried under its own filth.

There’s nothing new about Grady giving you his homework. You’d stopped trying to tell him no after the second or third attempt. You had realised that even though he was cruel and rude about it, he needed help. He was just too afraid to ask for it. Maybe this was your way of making up for letting Scarlet walk into that party all by herself. You could help Grady pass his classes, allow him to hopefully one day feel strong enough to know that he was worth more than his problem.

Cleo tilts her head, eyeing you with an expression that makes you want to hide. There’s nothing pleasant about this interaction and you wonder if there could ever be something gentler between the two of you. You doubt it, and you feel foolish for even thinking that Cleo had a heart that wasn’t beating black.

Maybe you simply needed to fight fire with fire and throw something back at her. Would that be enough? You could only try. You were sure there was nothing worse than someone almost drowning you.

The words reach the tip of your tongue before you can stop them-

“I didn’t realise the great Cleo was Grady’s lapdog, doing his bidding for him.”

The feeling of regret that washes over you has your hand tightening over the edge of the folder, fingers pushing into the paper.

Damn the consequences, you think, it had felt good.

c a s s i u s .

"you are young
and broken
covered in scars"

To your complete dismay, Cleo reacts almost favorably to your comment. The folder she has given you finds its way up to your face as Cleo pushes it against your lips. Your eyes widen, and you can’t seem to keep the confusion out of the frown that melds into your brows.

What was wrong with this girl? Was the entire point of her bullying just to wait until you responded? It didn’t make any sense. Was Cleo’s entire motivation for making people feel like worms designed to simply push them until they felt empowered enough to bite back? No, that was a stupid idea, you feel foolish for even allowing the idea to cross your mind. You just don’t understand.

You can’t put her into the boxes that you use to define people. Before now, she fit so snuggly into the box labelled with villains, but right now you’re not sure. You think she’s worse than a villain. The psychological damage and manipulation are on a different level. You had never been confronted by someone that was so capable of switching from abusive bitch to mental manipulation within moments.

The compliments she gives you makes your skin crawl, you think you might need to shower after this. It leaves a dirty feeling on your cheeks, and everywhere her eyes wander. There was nothing comforting about her telling you you might be cuter if you talked back more. You don’t want to be anything in her eyes, your entire goal was to fade into the background and not gain her attention.

There’s amusement in her eyes, a mischievous smile on her lips. She’s begging you to push back and say everything that’s been on your mind since the day you met her. But you can’t and you won’t. It feels as though she’s getting everything she wants, you’re playing yourself into her hands and feeding into her desires. An aching part of you doesn’t want her to win. Yelling at her or calling her a bitch would be doing just that.

Your eyes flicker with anger, the folder dropping to your chest as you set your mouth in a hard line. “I want you to leave me alone.” You say, tone cold and uninviting, anger simmering beneath the words.

“I’d have thought you’d have better things to do with your time,” you look around you and at the kids that had begun to glance at the conversation happening between nobody Cass and queen of the school Cleo. You raise an eyebrow, “with all the attention you’ve been giving me -some people might start getting the wrong idea.”

The implication sat heavy, your gaze trailing over the hundreds of students passing them, looking and whispering to one another. You were a stain on her reputation, being seen with you was enough to damage it, particularly when you weren’t cowering. The conversation with even tones was enough to make anyone watching think it was a friendly one.