Chapter 41: DON'T JUDGE

Frankie stood a few feet away, her arms crossed over her chest, shifting her weight from one leg to the other like she couldn’t decide whether to stay or go.

“So, everything’s fine then?” she asked, her voice sounding almost hesitant. “I mean, about your phone. We could always ask some tech nerd at school to take a look. They might know a way to recover some stuff.”

I glanced away from her, spotting Tiffany walking toward us from across the driveway. “That won’t be necessary,” I said. “I’ll figure it out myself.”

Frankie nodded, but it wasn’t convincing. She scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, a nervous habit she’d been doing all morning. “Right. Sure. Whatever you say.”

She was being weird—overly awkward, like she was walking on eggshells around me. I tilted my head slightly, waiting for her to spit out whatever was really on her mind, but she just stood there, fidgeting.

“Anything else?” I asked.

“No, no. Just… are you okay with going to school today? People are definitely going to stare. Some of them actually thought you were dead or something after you didn’t show up yesterday. You know how dramatic they can be.”

Tiffany had reached us by then. She stopped just short of where we were standing, gave me a small bow of acknowledgment, and moved to the side, waiting quietly. She was dressed in one of the outfits I’d told her to buy, and at least she looked decent.

“That’s not a problem,” I replied.

Frankie nodded again, her movements jerky. She pointed a thumb behind her, toward the car waiting at the curb. “Uh… I’m gonna pick up a friend, so I’ll head out first.”

She didn’t wait for my response, just turned and practically ran to her car.

See, awkward.

I turned to Tiffany, ignoring Frankie’s rushed departure. “Where is it?”

Without a word, she reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a folded thin envelope. She handed it to me, and I folded it neatly and put it inside my bag.

I studied it for a second, then gave her a nod before I walked toward the car parked at the edge of the driveway.

This was my first time actually driving it, if the test drive didn’t count.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, I took a second to adjust the mirrors and run my hands over the smooth leather of the steering wheel.

The drive to school was uneventful, though my fingers tapped against the wheel the entire way in anticipation. By the time I parked, Frankie pulled up just two cars away almost immediately.

Kinda fast, but okay.

She stepped out, shutting the door and glanced around, until her eyes landed on me.

Her lips stretched into a tight, almost forced smile, as she gave a small wave before walking away.

I watched her carefully.

No one stepped out of her car after her, and there wasn’t anyone walking behind her either. Where was the “friend” she said she was going to pick up?

I frowned. Was she avoiding me?

Did I do something wrong?—Not like it affected me, but.

Shaking my head, I pushed the thought aside and stepped out of my car, closing the door with a soft thud. I pressed the key, locking it with a faint beep, and started walking. My heels clicked softly against the pavement.

When I checked the time on my phone, I saw we still had fifteen minutes before classes began. Ignoring the stares and the subtle sounds of phones clicking—students taking pictures without even trying to be discreet—I headed for the one place I knew I needed to be first.

Nancy’s first class.

French.

The hallway was quieter as I approached the class. I knocked lightly on the opened door, the sound loud enough to grab attention, and was disruptive.

I stepped inside, scanning the room without saying a word. My eyes swept over the rows of students until I spotted her near the window, laughing with a couple of her friends. The same friends who didn't like to keep their mouth shut.

You want the bees, you've got to get the queen. Isn't that it?

I walked toward her table, ignoring the murmurs that started almost instantly. As I got closer, I cleared my throat, loud and clear enough to cut through their chatter.

All eyes turned to me, including hers. That was the point.

One of her friends sneered before I could even say anything. “What is this bitch doing here?”

Another guy, not too familiar and someone who clearly fancied himself her guard dog, stuck out an arm to block my path. His face was smug, like he thought he’d won some sort of prize for bravery.

I didn’t say a word. I simply glared at him, then used one nail to push his arm down—slowly, deliberately—until it was out of my way.

Now where was I?

Nancy leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs with exaggerated nonchalance. “What?Have you come to beg me to take down my review? To put something nice there?” she said with a sickly sweet voice, and goodness! It took everything in me not to glare at her outright. Or just post that video on the school blog.

Ahhh!

Such smug attitude, like she had no secret in the world. No dirt on her. No sad, wet—if I might add— past. No uncle Matthew plunging into her, and making her scream while she squirt all over his cock. No uncle Matthew tying her legs apart and making videos of her. No sweet uncle Matthew, pushing himself down her tiny throat, making sure she swallowed everything and told no one.

It was hard to believe she didn't like it.

I mean for someone so young, she did ride him well. Too well. And you say it's sexual abuse?

Fuck me! I bet she enjoyed it more that uncle matt did.

Heheh! I'd jerk off to that video if I was a guy.

Hey, don't judge me now.