"Hmm, I wonder who right now is trying, and failing miserably, to hide their anger and frustration at a little someone?" I tease, my face stone cold and my stance loose. I can hear the tiniest amount of amusement color my words. Noah looks like he is surprised and angry. He glares at me but suddenly realizes his posture, and his face turns red. I take a step forward, amused again when he doesn't step back but takes a step toward me.
"Yes, I see it clearly. Barely furrowed brow, tense neck, fisted hands, defensive stance, and curled toes. I guess the poor soul must have just figured out that life is not fair." Noah relaxes his posture, in a way that is way too unnatural; a blind person could sense he is hiding something from miles away. He relaxes his face and puts on a smirk while looking down at me. I sneer in my head. I'm only two inches shorter than him, he doesn't need to look down. I draw myself up to my full height, so he looks at me in the eye. Then, he talks, which I expected, but what he says shocks me.
"Well, look what we have here. A girl, with silky and beautiful hair who hides it," He pulls my hair free from my tie as I stand as still as a statue, but on the inside, I am digging his grave. He runs his hand through my curly almost-ringlets. "A girl," he continues, dragging his filthy hand down to my hip, "With an alluring figure who conceals it," Noah rests his hand on my hip, underneath my shirt. His warm hand on my bare hip disgusts me. He holds a genuine smile on his face, as if I am a prize that he is to collect.
The anger, barely controlled, spills over. My face, still in its mask, my voice, hardened with anger, and my eyes, bright with vengeance must have showed him his mistake since he snatches his hand away, like he was burned. Before his hand could retreat to his side, I grab it and twist it behind his back. I look toward Mrs. Hanson, who is now capturing all the students' attention with some sort of speech. I quickly force Noah to his knees and place him in a chokehold. I lower my face to his ear, and whisper while he splutters and his face turns red.
"Don't. Touch. Me." With every word I punch him in the ribs. I see Mrs. Hanson begin to turn around, so I quickly pull up Noah, release him from the chokehold, and give him another punch to the eye. He grabs his face, groaning, and I know that he's going to have a black eye tomorrow, unless he ices the wound the whole day. He quickly recovers, though, knowing that if he uncovers that I beat him, two things will happen: he'll lose his social standing, and he'll reveal that he was harassing me. Two very undesirable outcomes.
We face off again with the ball in between us, and the whole class watching. I look toward Belle, who is a little pale and I instantly know that she saw. She gives me a thumbs up, though, so I know she understands. I look back to Noah and see in his eyes a bit of fear and an unknown emotion. It makes his eyes dark and his pupils dilate, almost like a dark and consuming fire. This emotion is the first thing in years that truly scares me. It isn't revenge, but it isn't anything like joy. It's almost like want or ... lust. God no, please. I quickly look away from his eyes and focus solely on the ball.
Mrs. Hanson blows the whistle, and I quickly capture the ball seconds before Noah is at the spot I was at a few moments ago. I kick the ball toward the goal, and I am about halfway there before Noah catches up to me. I dodge around him and kick the ball around, but he doesn't let me get far. Before long, we are at an impasse. He stands, defending his goal, and I have the ball between my feet. Quickly, I think of a maneuver and pass the ball to him. He stares at me, confused for a second before smirking and running toward the goal on the opposite side of the field. I smirk internally, externally wearing a poker face.
I run to the middle of the field where we started and wait for him to get the ball there. As I expected. He kicks the ball slightly out of reach before trying to stop it, but the momentum is too great for him and the ball rolls out of his control. I rush and capture the ball. I'm not messing around anymore. I run as swiftly as I can, making calculated sharp kicks so the ball is in my control but faster than the pace Noah had it at. I leave him in the dust, even when he's running, and I kick the ball in the goal with a loud boom from the amount of power that I pushed into the one kick.
I regain control of my breath and keep my composure as I listen to the cheers of my peers. I nod at Mrs. Hanson, who smiles, and my teammates give me handshakes. Belle gives me a thumbs up and a look that says we're going to talk about what happened later. Mrs. Hanson gives the okay for us to go to the locker rooms, so Belle and I jog to get ahead of the others. I push open the door to the gym easily, and we both jog back to the locker rooms.
We both change, turning our backs against each other for privacy. Belle, however, changes faster than me and sees my abs and obliques as I pull off my shirt, which pulls up my tank top. I don't notice until I hear her soft gasp.
"Vee?" I look and realize that she can see my muscle. I quickly pull down my tank top, looking toward Belle. Her eyes are wide in shock and her jaw is to the floor. She then schools her features and gives me a stern look before demanding that I let her see. I sigh, then pull off my tank top, too. My fair skin is glistening slightly with sweat, and with each breath I take my abs rise and crunch. My muscles are toned and packed, but my skin is very soft and still somehow feminine. "When? Vivi, since when have you had this much muscle?" I look at her, and realize she's not going to back down, tell her.
"I started training right before middle school, okay? Now can I be let out of the inquisition because I really don't – "Just my luck, a stream of girls enter the locker room. When they see me, a hush falls over the room. I quickly pull on my tank top after I hear the clicks of phone cameras. Belle's eyes widen, and she and Haley step in front of me, with their backs toward me so I can have some privacy. The rest of the girls start murmuring, not nearly as loud as when they came in, though. I put my clothes on quickly and shoulder my bag. I give thanks to Haley before Belle and I leave.
We quickly walk out of the locker room hall and into the main hall. We wait near the exit for Mrs. Hanson to dismiss us. Soon, the boys start coming out of the locker rooms. Noah and his group are on their phones, and I begin to fear the worst. Belle and I exchange uneasy glances, and though I keep myself cool, I feel like throwing up. One boy finds something extremely interesting on his phone and he goes up to Noah, who takes a glance at it. After a second, his jaw drops open and he glances at me. I feel my cheeks going red and I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. Then, Noah does the unexpected. He roars at the boys around him to show him their phones. With scared looks, they guiltily show him something that makes him even more upset.
"Do not look at those photos," he turns and walks to the girls, where he talks to Sophie and a couple of other girls. "Delete them," he says, giving a murderous glare to her and her followers. Sophie juts out her chin and Noah drags her outside, where the whole class is watching them yell at each other. Belle glares as she sees boys looking at me with weird expressions. With a speed I didn't know was in her, she grabs a boy's phone to see what they are looking at. Her expression goes solemn as she hands me the phone, and she quiets the boy's protests.
On his phone was an open page of social media, where Sophie and her plastics posted the pictures of me in the locker room. In the picture, my hair is out, and my ringlets fall down my back, my face is stone cold, I'm only wearing a sports bra and in the picture you can see my muscled but unmistakably female figure. I am wearing the gym shorts and the picture shows my long legs.
Fury rises in me, and I tamp it down. To act with anger would be messy. In its place, a cold numbness washes over me. I hand the phone back to Belle, who hands it back to the boy. Now I understand. The boys are watching me with predatory glances. Mrs. Hanson comes out of her office and the boys hurriedly put away their phones. Noah and Sophie come back inside, with Sophie close to tears and Noah fuming. Sophie comes up to me and shows me the photos, murmurs an apology, and hits delete. Internally I sigh a breath of relief, but I silently nod to her before walking out to the sound of Mrs. Hanson dismissing us. Time to go home, now that school's out.