Page 71 of Revenge Reads Better

“Okay, now I know something’s wrong if you’re this skittish.” He frowns, halting his step.

“No, nothing’s wrong. I just don’t like being touched.”

Mr. Collins’s face blanches slightly as he immediately pulls his hand away.

“I’m sorry. You looked upset. I didn’t mean anything by it. It won’t happen again.”

He looks nervous now. And why wouldn’t he be?

I basically just made it sound like him trying to comfort me was somehow inappropriate.

Stupid, stupid Max. Here’s this teacher, actually taking an interest in my writing, and I’m practically biting his head off. Fuck.

“No. I’m the one who’s sorry. It’s not your fault I’m a basket case,” I say with a self-deprecating laugh, taking a page out of Dylan’s handbook and hoping that laughter truly is the cure for all evils.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asks again, searching my face, trying to read beyond the facade I’m putting on.

“I am. Really.” I plaster on a grin so wide it actually hurts my cheeks. Seeing that my locker is almost within reach, I quicken my steps to get to it. “Well, this is me.”

“Okay then,” Mr. Collins says, his brows pulling together as his confused gaze lingers on me for a beat.

Thankfully, the school bell rings, snapping him to attention.

“Time for class,” he says before giving me a quick wave and going on his merry way.

Once I’m sure he won’t look back, I let my shoulders slam against my locker.

I fucking hate this place. Even when something good happens to me, there’s always a steaming pile of shit waiting right behind it.

As I try my best not to think about how I just fucked myself by being awkward as shit with the man who’ll probably be my English teacher next year, I spot Misty and Kayla Cushman farther down the hall, all giggling and giddy as they write something on what looks like a sign-up sheet.

“Misty!” I call out.

It’s no use, though. The hallway is now packed with kids either coming from class or finishing lunch.

I start heading toward them, only for the two of them to disappear around the corner into the next hallway, arms hooked together as they laugh.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I make my way over to the sheet they just signed.

CHEERLEADING TRYOUTS

Oh. I guess Misty wasn’t kidding when she said she needed a change. Apparently, she took Sienna’s advice to actually do something about it to heart. Good for her.

But did it have to be cheerleading? Couldn’t she have joined the chess club? Debate team? Hell, literally anything that didn’t involve pom-poms and spending hours in Peyton Crawford’s company?

That’s the part I’m having difficulty with. Peyton and the other Reds are cheerleaders. And now Misty wants to be one too.

Like I said. Nothing good ever comes my way without something shitty tagging along behind it. And something tells me Misty spending time with Peyton is going to come back and bite us both in the ass.

That does it. I’m officially done with this day.

Done with it!

Next!

Chapter 13

Sunday