Paige turned her head, spying me. Too late to run. Or not. I could still run. Her red lips curved into a smirk. “Hey, Mouse.” Rider’s nickname dripped with derision as she pushed off the locker, remaining a few feet in front of it. “I’m kind of surprised you’re here after your little incident in class on Friday.”
My steps slowed like I was walking through cement. My initial suspicion was correct. This was not going to end well.
She folded her arms as she eyed me, oblivious to the students stopping around us, watching. Maybe she wasn’t oblivious. Maybe she knew she was drawing the attention of others. My mouth dried.
“I’m not going to even ask why you freaked out,” she said, raising a honey-colored eyebrow. “I know why. Poor little Mouse doesn’t like to talk.”
Someone, a girl, laughed. There was a chuckle from a guy. My stomach kept dropping. I could feel my throat closing up.
Run, that tiny voice in the back of my head screamed. Run away.
My jaw clamped down with such force a sharp bite of pain lanced across my cheek. Heart pounding like a steel drum, I started to walk around her. Maybe she’d let me get to my locker. If she just wanted to say crap to me, whatever. I’d been on the receiving end of worse. I edged past her and started toward my locker from behind. She couldn’t say anything I hadn’t heard before.
“I know what you’re up to,” she said, turning to follow me. “You’re after Rider. And that’s pathetic. Really pathetic.”
I flinched as I reached for my locker. I was not after Rider. Not the way she meant. If she would just leave me alone, she would eventually see that.
Couldn’t she just go away? Was that seriously too much to ask?
Paige wasn’t going anywhere.
Her cool fingers wrapped around my forearm, her grip firm but not painful. My chin jerked up and our eyes met. She lowered her head. “The last thing Rider needs right now is your shit. What? You think I don’t know about you and him? You think I don’t know that to Rider you’re still the poor little mouse he needs to protect?”
My fingers curled around empty air as the muscles along my back tensed.
The cruel twist of her lips faded and then she was no longer staring at me like I was barely worth the air she was breathing. Her gaze was steady and serious. “He spoke about you—about this girl who never talked and how bad he felt for her. He talked about you a lot.” She exhaled roughly. “He talked about you more than he did about himself in the beginning—when he came to stay with Hector. He told me what happened.”
My stomach hollowed as I stared at her. Distaste dripped from her tone. My chest grew tight. I’d told Ainsley a lot about my past, but Ainsley would never use that knowledge against me. But this girl could. She could tell everyone. How could Rider tell her these things about me? A ripe sense of betrayal rose, clogging already scattered thoughts. I didn’t know this girl and she knew things about me that had taken me months to share with Ainsley.
“I’m not trying to be a bitch,” she said, and I thought she was doing a good imitation for someone who wasn’t trying. “But Rider has been living with a guilt trip since I’ve known him, and it wasn’t until this past year that he seems to have moved on. And now you’re back. That kind of crap is the last thing he needs right now.”
Guilt trip? I blinked slowly as the empty sensation spread across my chest. Numbness followed as what Paige was saying began to really sink in. Rider had shared heavy stuff with her. Unspeakable things about both of us, and he felt guilty—he felt bad for what had happened to me. His pity cloaked me in a stickiness that couldn’t be washed off.
Her eyes narrowed and then she shook her head, letting go of my arm. In that moment I realized we had an audience. I didn’t think they could hear us, but they were definitely watching. In a rare moment, I was too startled to feel humiliation.
“God, you’re so stupid,” Paige bit out. “You’re looking at me like you have no idea what I’m talking about. Why else do you—”
The words erupted from me, bursting through the seal that had plugged the top of my throat. “I’m not stupid.”
Paige’s jaw gaped. A moment passed, and the sound of the students around us faded away. “Did you just speak to me?”
A voice intruded. “Don’t be a cabrona. I know it’s hard and it’s like all you have in this world, but Jesus, knock it off.”
My gaze darted to where Jayden stood. I dragged in a deep breath, welcoming the earthy scent that seemed to always cling to the younger boy.
Paige’s cheeks flushed pink as she turned to Jayden. “What did you just call me?”
He tilted his head, eyeing her. “You know what I said. And you know it’s true, unless you’re the estúpido one.”
Her eyes narrowed, but Jayden edged her out of the way, allowing me to gain full access to my locker. Without looking at the small crowd that had gathered around us, I tugged open the door and quickly switched out my books, barely aware of what I was doing. My head was thousands of hours in the past, and when I turned around, Paige was gone and Jayden was standing with his signature sleepy smile on his face.
“Walk you to class, muñeca?”
I’d heard muñeca used before. Carl called Rosa that every once in a while, and she smiled when she heard it. Hands shaking, I nodded as I hefted the strap of my bag.
“My locker is actually down the hall,” he added. “I have a reason to be in this hallway. Paige doesn’t.”