hanging back a respectable distance, but definitely within eavesdropping range. Soon enough, most of the crew was gathered in the same way, pretending not to be listening in. Pretending quite badly.
"What is it, poodle?" Poppy asked, putting her arms around his waist. Upton took her wrists and placed them back at her sides. She blinked, obviously upset, and glanced around. She noticed a few people watching and lifted her chin, trying to mask her surprise.
"This has to stop," Upton said, firmly but not unkindly. "I'm sorry, but I don't know how much clearer I can be. We've never been together--and we never will be together. We're friends. And as your friend, I'm telling you to stop embarrassing yourself." Poppy took a step backward, heartbreak written all over her face. A few girls nearby laughed behind their hands. Poppy looked at them, confused. Clearly she was not accustomed to being the object of laughter. I glanced over at Noelle and the others, and every last one of them looked like they wanted to flee. Like they'd rather be doing anything other than witnessing this. Which I supposed I understood. It was even hard for me to watch, and they actually were friends with Poppy. No one liked to see their friend get dissed.
"Is this because of her?" Poppy asked.
"Not entirely, no, "Upton said, putting his hands in his pockets. "I just don't feel that way about you. I'm sorry."
Paige and Sienna stepped forward, but Poppy whirled around, searching the club for someone.
Oh, crap. Me.
The girl crossed the few feet between us in about half a second, knocking over an oblivious partier in the process, sending her margarita flying. Poppy got so up in my face that I could count the pores on her nose. My heart pounded with trepidation, and I could only hope it didn't show on my face.
Never let your rival see you sweat.
"I've been meaning to ask you. How does it feel to be a one-person natural disaster?" Poppy spat. Literally spat. Her saliva pelted me just below my left eye.
"What are you talking about?" I replied, quickly wiping away the spittle.
"You! Hurricane Reed. You leave a wake of destruction everywhere you go," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Broken relationships, crushed hearts . . . death." Tears stung my eyes as I stared back at her. I so wanted to be unruffled by her attack, but how could anyone remain unaffected in the face of that sort of characterization? Was this actually what people were saying about me? Was this really what people thought? Every inch of my skin burned with anger, humiliation, and hurt.
"Don't think I don't know what happened to Thomas, to that girl in your dorm," she went on. "People talk--and somehow, they always talk about you. You're dangerous." I was so stunned, I didn't know how to respond.
"Poppy. That's enough," Upton said, coming up behind her.
"Screw you," she said, whirling on him. "Screw the both of you. Good luck trying to survive the storm."
Then she turned and ran out of the club. Daniel tried to follow, but she was too quick. She hopped in her white BMW and peeled away so fast that she almost spun out and crashed into a sand dune. Everyone in the place gasped, but she managed to backup and race off. Hertail-lights disappeared around a bend, and the crowd slowly returned to its partying. I simply stood there, staring after her. No one had ever said anything that cruel outright to me. I couldn't keep her words from repeating themselves in my mind.
Wake of destruction . . . one-person natural disaster . . . crushed hearts . . . death . . . Part of me felt the truth of it all. I was a huge sucking funnel cloud of bad luck, bringing misery to everyone I knew.
Thomas, Cheyenne, Ivy, Josh, Dash, Noelle. Even Taylor and Kiran still would be enrolled at Easton if I had never shown up there. No one was safe from Hurricane Reed.
"Well, that was fairly intense," Upton said, reaching for my hand. "Are you all right?"
"No. Not really," I replied, my voice
"What is it, poodle?" Poppy asked, putting her arms around his waist. Upton took her wrists and placed them back at her sides. She blinked, obviously upset, and glanced around. She noticed a few people watching and lifted her chin, trying to mask her surprise.
"This has to stop," Upton said, firmly but not unkindly. "I'm sorry, but I don't know how much clearer I can be. We've never been together--and we never will be together. We're friends. And as your friend, I'm telling you to stop embarrassing yourself." Poppy took a step backward, heartbreak written all over her face. A few girls nearby laughed behind their hands. Poppy looked at them, confused. Clearly she was not accustomed to being the object of laughter. I glanced over at Noelle and the others, and every last one of them looked like they wanted to flee. Like they'd rather be doing anything other than witnessing this. Which I supposed I understood. It was even hard for me to watch, and they actually were friends with Poppy. No one liked to see their friend get dissed.
"Is this because of her?" Poppy asked.
"Not entirely, no, "Upton said, putting his hands in his pockets. "I just don't feel that way about you. I'm sorry."
Paige and Sienna stepped forward, but Poppy whirled around, searching the club for someone.
Oh, crap. Me.
The girl crossed the few feet between us in about half a second, knocking over an oblivious partier in the process, sending her margarita flying. Poppy got so up in my face that I could count the pores on her nose. My heart pounded with trepidation, and I could only hope it didn't show on my face.
Never let your rival see you sweat.
"I've been meaning to ask you. How does it feel to be a one-person natural disaster?" Poppy spat. Literally spat. Her saliva pelted me just below my left eye.
"What are you talking about?" I replied, quickly wiping away the spittle.
"You! Hurricane Reed. You leave a wake of destruction everywhere you go," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Broken relationships, crushed hearts . . . death." Tears stung my eyes as I stared back at her. I so wanted to be unruffled by her attack, but how could anyone remain unaffected in the face of that sort of characterization? Was this actually what people were saying about me? Was this really what people thought? Every inch of my skin burned with anger, humiliation, and hurt.
"Don't think I don't know what happened to Thomas, to that girl in your dorm," she went on. "People talk--and somehow, they always talk about you. You're dangerous." I was so stunned, I didn't know how to respond.
"Poppy. That's enough," Upton said, coming up behind her.
"Screw you," she said, whirling on him. "Screw the both of you. Good luck trying to survive the storm."
Then she turned and ran out of the club. Daniel tried to follow, but she was too quick. She hopped in her white BMW and peeled away so fast that she almost spun out and crashed into a sand dune. Everyone in the place gasped, but she managed to backup and race off. Hertail-lights disappeared around a bend, and the crowd slowly returned to its partying. I simply stood there, staring after her. No one had ever said anything that cruel outright to me. I couldn't keep her words from repeating themselves in my mind.
Wake of destruction . . . one-person natural disaster . . . crushed hearts . . . death . . . Part of me felt the truth of it all. I was a huge sucking funnel cloud of bad luck, bringing misery to everyone I knew.
Thomas, Cheyenne, Ivy, Josh, Dash, Noelle. Even Taylor and Kiran still would be enrolled at Easton if I had never shown up there. No one was safe from Hurricane Reed.
"Well, that was fairly intense," Upton said, reaching for my hand. "Are you all right?"
"No. Not really," I replied, my voice
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