Free Web NovelChapter 12: Petty Boycott
Ella’s POV:
Okay, I might have just doomed myself by speaking up. What was I even thinking? Asking to switch partners with the school’s golden boy—Jason Knight, of all people. Now, everyone’s staring at me like I just declared myself an alien from another planet. Their shocked faces, the gasps, the whispering... like, seriously? Is it that big of a deal?
I just wanted to keep my head down and blend in, not get dragged into the drama. But no, fate had other plans. I’ve been partnered with *him*. The one guy I’ve been trying to avoid like the plague. And what’s worse? Now everyone thinks I’m some ungrateful idiot for not wanting to work with the school’s most "desired" guy. Newsflash: I don’t care about your high school hierarchy.
This isn’t going to end well, is it?
Amber’s glare from the other side of the room is burning holes into me. I can practically hear her thoughts—*how dare the hoodie girl reject her perfect Jason?* I can only imagine the level of petty revenge she’s plotting now. Great. Just great. freewebnøvel.com
And Jason? Ugh. He looked offended. Like, how dare I not jump at the chance to work with him? Honestly, I don’t want to deal with his inflated ego or his worshippers. I’ve got enough going on already without adding "partnering with Jason Knight" to my list of problems. I just want to finish this project, get through the semester, and survive this place without any more drama.
But apparently, I’ve just made that impossible.
Fate is really a bitch.
The rest of the day was a series of petty pranks that could’ve driven any sane person mad, but I wasn’t about to give these people the satisfaction. I’d learned long ago how to keep my head down, blend in, and survive. That survival instinct was kicking in full force now.
It started with the ridiculous "missing backpack" trick. During our break between classes, I’d left my backpack on my desk for two seconds, only to return and find it missing. Everyone in the class pretended like they didn’t notice anything, acting way too innocent for my liking. I could feel the tension in the air — they were all waiting for my reaction, expecting me to flip out or panic.
Instead, I rolled my eyes and calmly scanned the room. The guy who usually sat two rows behind me was trying too hard to look innocent, his eyes darting away the second I glanced his way. Bingo.
Without a word, I walked over to his desk, bent down, and yanked my bag from beneath his chair. He didn’t even protest, probably stunned that I didn’t freak out or cause a scene. I just shot him a quick look, zipped up my bag, and went back to my seat.
"Nice try," I muttered under my breath, loud enough for him to hear but soft enough to keep it from turning into an argument. The snickers around the room quickly faded when they realized I wasn’t going to crack.
The other class wasn’t any better. I usually sit at the back, minding my own business, but today? Nope. The entire back row was mysteriously "full," even though I know they usually leave seats empty. So, I was forced to sit at the front. Great. Perfect spot to have paper balls and whatever else they could find thrown at me from behind. I didn’t even bother to react, though. I just pulled my hoodie down more and sat there, pretending like I was the only one in the room. And you know what? It drove them insane. I could feel their frustration growing every time I ignored their childish pranks.
Let them act like idiots. If they think this is going to break me, they’ve got another thing coming. I’ve been through worse, and I’m not about to let a bunch of petty, insecure kids ruin my day.
Next came the bathroom incident. A group of girls literally blocked the door, acting like they owned the place, refusing to let me in. Bitches. What do they think this is, some kind of private VIP club? After holding it in through two whole classes, I finally made a break for the restroom, only to find it locked from the inside. Seriously? They locked me out? I could hear the giggling on the other side, the girls undoubtedly proud of themselves for their oh-so-brilliant scheme.
I sighed. Did they think I was that desperate? If they thought a locked bathroom door would break me, they clearly didn’t know who they were dealing with. I’d been through worse. Far worse. So, I turned around, marched right back to class, and sat through the rest of the lecture without a word, holding it in like a champion. If anything, my quiet refusal to give in to their nonsense seemed to frustrate them even more.
The final straw of the day came when I walked into the cafeteria. I should’ve known something was off. The second I stepped into the room, it felt like everyone was watching me. Whispers, snickers, and eyes darting in my direction were the dead giveaways. But I’d learned long ago to ignore them.
At lunch—of course, right? People were suddenly claiming that every table was "booked" or "taken." Like, seriously? Some of them were sitting two to a table, but somehow, none of them had room for me. Stupid. Leaving a seat at the corner.
I grabbed my tray, loaded up my lunch, and made my way to the spot near the corner. When I reached the table, I saw it — some kind of clear, sticky liquid spread all over the bench. They’d soaked it in some kind of glue or syrup, hoping I wouldn’t notice and sit down, ruining my clothes.
I smirked. Really? I wasn’t born yesterday. Without missing a beat, I sidestepped the trap, picked up a napkin, and casually wiped the edge of the bench before sitting down on the clean side. Then I calmly started eating my lunch.
By the time I was halfway through my sandwich, I could see Amber and her little cronies watching me from across the cafeteria. Amber’s perfect, polished smile faltered when she realized her latest attempt had failed. Again.
They could try all they wanted — they weren’t going to break me. If I’d survived a life of hiding from my father’s shadow and running from his influence, I sure as hell could survive this.
Eventually, the whispers died down, and the pranks stopped, at least for the day. As I packed up to leave, I felt a sense of victory wash over me. They thought they were playing a game, but I wasn’t here to entertain them. I had bigger things to worry about, like staying under the radar, graduating, and, most importantly, staying out of my father’s grasp.
As I walked out of the cafeteria, head held high under my hoodie, I couldn’t help but smirk.
"Nice try, losers," I whispered to myself.
