Untouchable

Chapter 9: Clashing

Chapter Nine: Clashing

The fake blonde snorted. "Yea, she's either bulimic or preggers."

They doubled over laughing; Rachel's boobs basically falling out of her top.

"Nah, definitely bulimic. Who'd touch that? I bet she's a prude."

Witch. I saw red.

I stood up, hands clenched at my side. I brought out the Death-Stare, and released it on these skanks full force.

They dared to presume they knew me! Prude? Jimmy thought I was a prude, and look where it got me. I gave him everything but sex, and look at me now. Knocked-up and exiled.

I'd let people walk all over me before. But I was not that girl anymore. I wasn't going to just lie down and take their crap. I wasn't going to ignore them and hope they went away.

I cared.

I wasn't that Cate anymore, and I was not going to let whores treat me like that.

"Who do you think you are? You don't know me!" I took one step towards them menacingly.

The fake blonde had a snotty expression on her face—probably permanent—but Rachel looked slightly uncomfortable.

The blonde crossed her arms under her chest, and raised one eyebrow. "I'm Amy Michaels. Who are you?" Then she muttered "blimp" under her breath.

"Ohhhhhh… you're Amy Michaels? I've heard the locker room rumors." I smirked.

Her face began to go slightly purple. "You don't know who you are messing with chunky! I can ruin your life."

Join the club. I laughed bitterly at her. "Oh, so that's how it is. The bitter harpy needs to put others down in order to make her fake tan and botched boob job self feel better. Poor baby."

Part of me understood her. She was the type I'd been friends with for years. She was the type that hung around Jimmy, and who Bree emulated whole heartedly. She used manipulation and insults to raise her standing. I had tolerated it once. I would never do that again.

They had made me the target of their insults the moment I broke up with Jimmy. And they'd made darn sure that nobody believed me.

Amy's face changed as if she had a revelation; she giggled, and it sounded like nails on a chalk board. "I've heard about your pathetic attempts to catch Will Burnett’s attention. Don't even try. You are way out of his league." Rachel laughed at that, like it was an inside joke.

I clenched my hands at my side, desperately trying to think calming thoughts. Pummeling her looked way too good right now. I pointed at her face. "Aw honey, is that a cold sore? Because you know what they say about cold sores; it's from sucking an infected dick."

Her face froze and she dropped the smile, the sneer returning.

"I've seen you in the bathroom every day. Puking. You are disgusting." She wrinkled her nose at me. "It doesn't seem to be helping you lose weight."

They messed with me; they messed with my friend. They messed with my fat, and therefore my baby. This chick was going down.

Nobody messes with my baby.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out some loose change. With my most insincere smile I said, "There you go, my contribution; I'm sure this little chat has cut into your nightly earnings. I wouldn’t want to cut into your time with your clients."

Amy took a step towards me, looking enraged—it did nothing for her.

"Take another step I dare you." I smiled tightly.