Jasmine's POV
Whispers filled the halls as the drama about Rebecca Jones unfolded, spreading like wildfire. People couldn't stop talking about how Rebecca was sleeping with Mel Peters' widowed father, and just when they thought the story couldn't get any juicier, it did. "That's not all," someone said in a hushed tone, "Mel isn't as pure and innocent as she makes herself out to be."
Rumors swirled that the police were now questioning Mel's father, and with the pictures of him and Rebecca, it seemed inevitable that he'd be facing jail time. The gossip was relentless, and everyone was waiting to see how the whole mess would play out.
Listening to the chaos I caused with a smile plastered on my face, I found myself sprawled out on the floor, my body twisted in a way that could've been mistaken for a victim outline. It took me a solid minute to process what was happening, trying to figure out why I was on the floor in the first place. I wasn't clumsy. I didn't trip on air. I wasn't that girl. So, the only explanation was clear.
This heifer pushed me.
I mean, really? This heifer pushed me? I was still trying to wrap my head around it as I glanced up to see none other than Ashton standing above me, grinning down at me like I was his personal comedy show. The nerve.
I watched as he stepped over my body like it was just a minor inconvenience, his smirk never faltering, and for a moment—just a split second—I felt completely frozen.
No way.
No, this is not happening.
But it was.
I couldn't let him get away with it.
Without thinking, my hand shot out, grabbing his ankle and yanking it toward me. Before Ashton could even process what was happening, I sunk my teeth into his skin. Hard.
He screamed, a sound so loud it echoed through the hallway, his body jerking in shock. But I wasn't letting go. Not this time. I wasn't going to be the girl who took it lying down.
Ashton kicked and flailed, his hands grasping for balance, but I wasn't backing off. The shock on his face was almost worth it.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I released him, letting him stumble back a few steps, clutching at his leg, his face twisted in pain.
"Are you seriously that desperate for attention?" I spat, glaring at him as he tried to recover from the bite.
Ashton shot me a death glare, clearly not used to being the one who didn't have control over a situation. He was breathing heavily, his eyes wild with a mix of pain and disbelief. "You're crazy, you know that?"
"I'm not the one who pushed someone on the floor," I shot back, my voice cold. "So don't come at me with that."
He seemed to hesitate, looking like he was weighing his next move. I couldn't tell if he was about to snap back or if he was finally realizing that I wasn't someone he could easily intimidate.
I stood up slowly, ignoring the way my body felt sore from the fall, keeping my gaze fixed on him.
"You're not as tough as you think, Ashton," I replied, my voice unwavering.
He didn't respond right away. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked away, the usual swagger in his step, but there was a small crack in his confidence now. I could see it in the way he walked, the way his posture shifted slightly.
-------
Ashton's POV
I limped down the hall, trying to hide the pain from the bite on my ankle, but the sting still burned like hell. I didn't know what the hell just happened. One second, I was laughing, thinking I'd pulled another victory over Jasmine, and the next—she bit me. Like an actual savage.
My mind raced, trying to process it. This wasn't part of the plan. I was supposed to scare her, make her feel small. But instead, she... she bit me. And now, for the first time in as long as I could remember, I wasn't the one in control.
She looked at me like I was nothing. Like I didn't matter.
And I hated it.
The walk back to my locker felt like it took years. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, watching me limp by, and I hated that too. I wasn't supposed to be the one humiliated.
When I reached my locker, I stopped for a moment, staring at my reflection in the glass. My chest heaved with frustration, but there was something else there. Something new.
I slammed the locker shut, forcing myself to calm down.
Tomorrow would be another day, and I'd be ready for it. But something told me that Jasmine wasn't going to be so easy to break. She had a fire inside her that made everything a hell of a lot more complicated.
And I wasn't sure if that made things harder—or more interesting.
-------
Jasmine's POV
I walked through the halls with a small smile on my face, the adrenaline from earlier still buzzing in my veins. I wasn't going to let Ashton think he could get away with pushing me, with playing these games. I wasn't that little girl anymore.
As I passed by a group of people talking, I overheard snippets of their conversation. Everyone was talking about me and Ashton. Of course, they were.
The bite. The fall. It was all anyone could talk about.
But one thing was clear—no one expected me to be the one who got the last word.
And that felt damn good.
Jasmine coughed sharply, blood spilling from her mouth, and muttered, "must've been from the bite with Ashton."
I reached the library, my safe haven, and settled into my usual spot, finishing up the post about Rebecca Jones and her White Lotus facade.
Rebecca, Parker's girlfriend, had also slept with one of his best friends. I wonder who it is. Stay tune for more White Lotus exposed chronicle.
Love, Emia