Mark My Words

69 | Naughty Or Nice

a/n: The meme in me: "Chapter 69! Make it sexy!" The predetermined plot: "Life-threatening danger! Intrigue! Lunch room fights!"

Georgina Saber stood just as Rosalie skidded in front of her, swinging to a halt with their chests mere inches apart. Rosalie gasped, her eyes trailing up the length of Georgina's braid before meeting Georgina's raised eyebrows and smug, psychopathic smile.

    Rosalie swallowed hard, but it felt as though every organ in her body was lodged in her throat trying to escape. She clasped a hand to her neck as she took a few wary steps back and looked around the room. Whitney was at her desk, hoisting her bag off of her chair, and Art was nowhere to be found.

    "I wasn't expecting a familiar face," Georgina said, and Rosalie wasn't entirely surprised to find that the girl's voice was deeper, huskier. She had the muscular physique of athletic women who needed their body hair regularly trimmed. The only reason Rosalie knew was because she had that issue herself.

    Rosalie flushed bright red. Stop thinking about body hair, she told herself, the hand at her throat now knotted in her hair.

    Whitney slipped past them, saying, "Have fun! I'm sure you'll love it here. Hopefully I'll see you around again, Georgina!"

    "Absolutely," Georgina said, tipping forward with a brilliantly dashing smile. She leant back then, pocketing her hands, and let out a delighted sigh. "Well, let's get on with it. It's convenient that I don't have to hunt you down."

    Hunt? Rosalie thought, but it was promptly followed with a panicked, Me?!

    She stepped back as Georgina stepped forward. The two of them hesitated on opposite sides of the threshold. Georgina's slim, dark eyes were lidded in that condescending, cocky guise of someone who had their prey right where they wanted it.

    Georgina put her hand on the doorframe and said, her voice lowering to a hushed whisper, "Rosalie Mason. So you're the one all over the papers with my beloved Joey."

    Rosalie said nothing.

    "Tell me why your student representative calls you Rose Jason?" she asked, head tipping to the side.

    "Th-There's another girl in the grade with that name."

    "Makes for an awful lot of confusion."

    "Tell me about it," Rosalie said, voice choked. She cleared her throat and looked away at the busy hallway.

    Every fiber in Rosalie's skin shivered at the touch of Georgina's finger grazing her jawline. She clammed her mouth shut, eyes wide, and out of reflex, she pushed Georgina's arm away.

    Georgina's eyes were calm, though, and she didn't move. Instead, she grabbed hold of Rosalie by the chin and tugged her head forward. It was a situation Rosalie had never been in and had no gut reaction at the ready. Instead, she managed a feeble, "Don't touch me."

    Georgina huffed, her amusement tugging a wide smile onto her lips. Her eyes lifted from where they had been focused elsewhere. "And here I thought I knew Joey. Seems she's downgraded."

    "What're you talking about?" Rosalie said, pushing on Georgina's arm again. This time, her fingers loosened and eventually dropped from Rosalie's face. "Don't touch me again—I mean it," Rosalie hissed, her composure back. She straightened up and rubbed her hand over her chin where her skin still crawled.

    "Feisty. Okay, I change my mind. I'm on strict business, Mason, and you're on my itinerary."

    "Excuse me?" Rosalie huffed, stepping away. She started down the hallway, and Georgina followed, falling into step with her. Rosalie couldn't stop herself from scowling at everyone and everything before at last pinning Georgina with a sour look.