Page 27 of Wicked Titan

“Morning, Quinn!” Grant says cheerfully, holding out a coffee to me. “I grabbed an extra, hoping I’d bump into you again on the way to class.”

I grab the familiar cup from Java Knox.

“Thanks.” I force a smile at the sweet gesture as we walk through the school doors.

“I didn’t know what you liked, so I just asked for the basics—caffeine, cream, and sugar.”

“Perfect.” I have a genuine smile as I take a sip of the warm coffee. It is much needed.

Grant rubs the bulldog’s ass as we walk past. “You have a fun weekend?”

“A blast.” My words are laced with sarcasm as I recall my weekend.

It had been fairly uneventful after the disaster Friday night. I’d stayed mostly in my “new” bedroom and avoided my phone which was loaded with apology texts and voice mails from Haley and a few from Mason. It’s funny that they both decide to call after the fact.

A hard jolt sends my coffee spilling down the front of my shirt.

Damn it.

I’m slinging coffee off my hands when Allison’s amused eyes meet mine.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there,” she says as she goes to step around me.

Extending my leg to the side, I catch her just in time to send her tumbling forward as she falls flat on her face with her ass in the air. She huffs, spinning to sneer at me, pure rage on her face.

I just had my heart pummeled by my best friend. This petty bullshit will not get to me.

Smiling as coffee drips from the hem of my skirt into the puddle at my feet, I look directly at her. “No problem.”

She hustles to her feet, cussing up a storm, but I stand rigid as a stone.

“Get to class.” Principal Huntington yells at the few students who have gathered as he notes my coffee-stained uniform. “What’s happened?”

“Oh, nothing. Clumsy me—spilled my coffee.”

Principal Huntington looks to Allison then back to me, knowing it was more than a mere accident. “You sure everything is okay, Quinn?”

“Yes, sir. I’m fabulous,” I say, smirking at Allison as she stomps away. I probably just upped their torment, but they’ll figure out eventually that I won’t just cower down and take it.

Principal Huntington asks if I need a change of clothes, but I tell him I’m good.

To think I’d told myself I was being extra by putting a spare uniform in my car just in case. I trudge to my car, snatch my clean uniform, and stomp my way back into the school as Grant walks silently with me.

“I’ll see you later, but thanks for the coffee.” I tease, as we walk down the empty hallway.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Really.” I have firsthand knowledge that there are far worse things than dealing with a bitch who gets pleasure out of spilling coffee on you. The fact that I really needed that caffeine fix bothers me more than anything.

He holds his coffee out to me. “Here, take mine.”

“No, I’m good, but thanks.” It’s a kind gesture but I don’t feel right about taking his drink. I’m still questioning the motives of everyone around me—Grant included.

“You sure … about the coffee and that you’re fine?”

“Yep,” I wave my neatly pressed, unstained uniform in the air, “I will be in a few.”

“Okay. Just don’t let her or any of them get to you. They aren’t worth the time.”