Stepping out of the story for a moment, let me tell you something. A little background info on Dante Evans. Dante Evans was the richest kid in this school- scratch that- this town. And although our town was small, the houses here were as big as the ones in the Hamptons. Maybe bigger. He was the golden boy of the school, with every guy wanting to be him and all the girls falling for him. Except for me. My personal opinion was that he was a complete douchebag. I was here on a scholarship, so that basically meant that everyone could pick on me. And, the policy at the school was that if you damaged someone’s property, then you paid for it. I, of course, couldn’t pay for all the expensive things that everyone else had. Which brings me back to the story. There was no way I was paying for a Lacoste polo.
The whole cafeteria was silent and I could feel the stares of all the students on me. Dante’s glare could’ve scorched my eyes.
I gulped.
He slapped my tray away and leaned in towards me. “You’re gonna pay. You know how much that shirt cost me?”
I knew, so I nodded meekly. “Good, ‘cause you’re gonna need that money.” I felt like crying.
Suddenly, Colton Hunter stepped up. “Excuse me,” he said coolly, and then dumped his entire tray on Dante’s head! I gasped. The silence was deafening.
Colton smiled. “That shouldn’t cost anything Evans, because,” he held two fingers and ticked them off one at a time, “One, you’re not worth anything, and two, I sold that shirt to you. Isn’t that right Evans?” He was looking strangely at Dante.
Dante stammered, “Uh, I”-
Colton sighed and shook his head in mock dismay. “Listen up folks!” he called out. He jutted a thumb towards Dante. “He’s the trash. Anyone who’s done can dump their lunch on him.” Almost simultaneously, everyone on the lunch room stood up, clutching their trays with a gleeful expression. They started walking to Dante. I gaped at Colton and he winked. My heart was beating, and all the while, Dante was screaming and running, trying to throw his shirt off him. It was totally romantic.
Back at home, Colton took off his shirt. Left the window open. Again. Gah! What is Hunter’s problem anyway? I stuck my head out of my window, scowled at him, and told him to put his shirt back on. Colton grinned and stuck his tongue out. I stuck mine out too. He wagged his. I wagged mine. He panted. So did I. He licked his lips. Me too. By the time we were finished, we both looked out to see neighbors staring at us in horrified expressions.
One mother ushered her child along. “Honey, this is why I don’t want you getting into drugs. That girl over there is positively inhaling marijuana.”
Colton laughed out loud, long and hard, tears in his eyes. I was sure my face was as red as a fire engine. “I hate you,” I muttered to Colton.
Colton grinned. “Love you too,” he managed to gasp, before bursting into uncontrollable fits of laughter, again.
I am SO going to get my revenge.
