Page 1 of Reign of the Queen
The white Range Rover and the black matte Escalade, both low to the ground and souped-up to within an inch of their lives, race into the parking lot, fighting to outmaneuver each other. The high-pitched screech of brakes and tires on the asphalt and the pungent smell of burning rubber and gasoline reaches my nostrils. Base pounding from their vehicles' speakers makes the ground feel like it's vibrating, bringing a sense of dread and excitement, all wrapped into one emotion.
I turn my head slightly, just enough to watch them arrive from the corner of my eye, but not enough to signal to anyone looking at me that I am watching. A predator spider watching her prey walk directly and unassumingly into the web of their demise. Just the thought of that very demise lightens me up on the inside.
Their loud, obnoxious laughter reverberates through the air, making my skin crawl and igniting my rage. The loud music suddenly stops, car doors open and then slam shut.
We stand just off to the side before the main stairs that take you into the school. A prime area I made sure we got so that I could prepare for my first interaction with the entitled kings of this school.
I smirk to myself; they don't know what's about to rock their overpriced, privileged world. Self-titled "kings," fuck that shit. They're about to get a kick where it hurts. Pride is such a powerful sin. After all, I should know, I now suffer from it as well.
I do not intend to bow at their altars or get on my knees for anyone at this school. Fuck them; their egos are massive enough, their entourage swelled with maggots. Maggots that follow every word, every step they make, foaming at the mouths with adoration. Little do they know what's coming. Those maggots will be laughing and bearing witness all along the way. The change in Casbury hierarchy is about to begin.
My gaze drifts over the different groups of students standing around the front courtyard and the main steps. Filthy, useless vermin, all waiting to see what their forgery of kings will do. Who will get to walk in their shining, fake presence. As if the malignant kings of Casbury really hold all the world's power in their worthless hands, hands that I plan to stain with the blood of their victims.
"Here we go. You sure about this?" the curly-haired beauty to my right asks me in a low, reserved voice.
I give her a quick once over. Fear fills her big, chocolate brown eyes as she stares back at me. A tight grimace dances around her mouth, high cheekbones, and a mess of dark brown curls look back at me. She's always been beautiful, but now she's just stunning.
I give her the tiniest of smiles. "Absofuckinglutely."
She nods her curly-haired head and straightens her posture to match mine. An unassuming queen that has been treated like dirt under the feet of those so-called "kings" and their posse of maggots. They will pay for that; I'll make damn sure of it.
We hear them approach, their conversation becoming more apparent as they get closer to where we are standing.
"Hmmm, who's the blonde?” A voice full of laughter asks.
"Does it matter? If she looks as good from the front as she does from the back, she'll be in the back seat of the range before lunch.”
This one's voice has a slight husky accent to it, and just by that sound, I know it's Mateo.
"And if she doesn't?" a rich, cultured voice asks.
The owner of the original voice answers him with a snort. "Then Finn can have her; he prefers not to look at their faces anyway."
Another deep baritone voice answers the first idiot, "Fuck you, man."
Hmmm, I guess the first voice must belong to Carter. I don't remember him having such a deep voice. Then again, his voice was always directed in spite, and it has been a few years since I was last subjected to it.
Raegan twitches next to me; I know she can hear them too. I give her a subtle nod, reminding her not to show them we are listening to their every word. She turns her body slightly toward me, shielding me from their view. As long as she sticks to what we planned, this will go the way I need it to. I need her not to get scared right now. I grab her wrist and squeeze, never taking my eyes off the vultures surrounding us. The little voice in my head that still has a shred of self-preservation is begging me to grab Raegan and run. It’s too bad I never was any good at listening to it, though.
"Is that Raegan Dunnville standing next to the blonde?" I hear what I now believe to be Carter asking.
"Maybe we should go and see how little Raegan's summer was," the deep voice I'm assuming belongs to Finn suggests.
Before they can approach us, I see a redhead coming across the courtyard at an accelerated speed; that’s saying a lot considering the black patent skyscraper heels she's currently rocking. Her long hair flaps behind her. She's creating her own wind with her speed.Impressive.
I watch her approach, wearing the mandatory school uniform of a gray, navy, and red plaid kilt, white oxford shirt, and a dark blue blazer with the school crest embroidered on the right pocket. Her skirt has been shrunken to within an inch or two of her butt cheeks, and she's wearing dark blue thigh-high socks instead of the knee-high ones that are part of the actual uniform. She stops directly in front of Raegan and me, breath panting after her exertion. Her sharp blue eyes narrowed on me. "Rae-Rae, who is this?" She directs her question to Raegan at my side while giving me a slow once over. She wrinkles her nose, disdain and a pound of carefully laid makeup on her face, pointing a long, black manicured finger in my direction.
Raegan gives me a slow smirk and then shrugs her shoulders casually. "Hey Melinda. I'm so good; thanks so much for inquiring. I had a great summer too." The snark and sarcasm drips from her response, while she rolls her eyes.Cheeky biatch that she is.
"Yes… whatever, not what I need to know, you simpleton." She snaps her fingers in Raegan's face, and the action causes my blood pressure to jump up a bit. I have to viscerally control my hand from snapping out and slapping her in the face.
"Who are you?" She now directs her question directly to me, wrinkling her perfect nose and eyeing me like I am some dirty substance coming to soil her pristine school.
I give Raegan a wink as I turn my body fully in Melinda’s direction to answer her, eyeing her the same way she studied me; I scan from the soles of her feet to the top of her head that’s clearly filled with disdain. "You don't remember me, Melinda?" I question with a slight smirk and using my best snotty upper-crust Manhattan voice. I'm just testing the waters here; I know she has no idea who I am.
"Remember you? I have never seen you a day in my life; how would I remember you?" Melinda steps closer to me, getting within a few inches of mine and Raegan's bodies. Her cloying floral scent fills my nostrils and makes me gag. She's eyeing me like she's trying hard to place me but failing miserably. I don't blame her; there is no way she can associate me with whom I used to be. That girl is long gone, and in her ashes, I have risen.
"Well, who are you? She taps her stupid foot impatiently at not being answered right away. I guess she never outgrew her three-year-old tantrum phase—who knew?I shrug nonchalantly.
