Maisie
"Murderer. Killer. Whore."
My assigned locker was painted in pig's blood, the stale coppery sludge running down in disgusting droplets, staining even the floors.
Maybe the general student body had made a decision to avoid me before they got the sharp end of the knife, but it didn't mean they couldn't make their hatred of me as loud as their disapproval of the council's decision to bring me back here.
Students snickered as they walked past, while I wiped furiously at the blood, face red with rage that had nothing to do with the obscenity, and everything to do with the blonde fucker three lockers down, twirling a girl's brown hair around his fingers, speaking French into her ears while she giggled like she was having a seizure.
I knew Quinlan was being fucking petty, but right after marking me like I was his fucking property and rendering me unable to walk in a freaking straight line, I wasn't in the mood to think about the semantics of him trying to make me jealous.
