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**Caution! Unedited. Will Most Likely Change*
While the moonlight dances off the shiny red paint of his tricked out sports car, I feel my blood start to boil, and my face start to match the color. How could he? Seriously? And with Charity Bidwell of all people?
When the reality that I am being cheated on is smacked in my face, my first instinct is to burst out in tears like a little girl whose puppy was just ran over, but I can’t. I know I can’t, not with Sasha sitting in the passengers seat. She’d never let me live it down. I’m suppose to be tough. I’m apart of Ohio State's mean girl squad for crying out loud. I can’t let a jerk like Chance Murphy make me the laughing stock of the school just as I’m on my way to queen bee status.
“Well, Avery?” Sasha, my sorority sister, smirks with her very I-told-you-so-face. “What are you going to do about that?”
“Yeah, Avery. Are you going to let him get away with that shit?” Rosemary chimes from my back seat.
They want action. They came with me tonight just to get first hand gossip, so I have to give people something to talk about. Something that’ll make the rest of the sorority forget the fact that Chance was in Highland Cinema sucking face with Charity, making me look like a pathetic loser in the process.
The muscles in my neck tense at the thought of people laughing at me Monday morning, so push my fingers into the tight flesh in the back of my neck and sigh. I close my eyes, trying to plan my move. The only thing I can think of is revenge. I want to hurt him like he's hurting me. My eyes snap open as my plan unfolds in my brain. The one thing Chance loves is that car—that pretty, red, sports car that’s mocking me with its presence. The one that’s sitting all alone at the far end of the parking lot, that’s begging for punishment.
With lighting quick speed I pop the trunk of my car, fling open my car door, and hop out. Behind me Sasha and Rosemary giggle as they make their way over to me while I riffle through my trunk.
“What are you looking for?” Sasha quizzes.
My hand lands on cold, hard steel and I pull it out of the trunk for a better look. “This.”
“What the hell is that?” Rosemary asks.
The laugh that escapes my lips startles me a little because it doesn’t even sound like me. It has the ring of someone thinking very dark and menacing things, not feeling heartbroken, like I really feel now. “It’s a crowbar.”
Sasha smiles. “Nice.”
“What a minute, Avery. You can’t possibly use that on them.”
I roll my eyes and slam the trunk lid. “Rosemary, it’s not to hurt them with.”
Rosemary scrunches her face. For being the so-called brains of our group, she isn’t always the brightest crayon in the box. Our little secret society really needs to adjust what they view as brilliance.
I take off toward the bright red show-of-money that’s shinning under the glow of the street lamps, planning to reciprocate some pain. The steel now feels warm in my grip, after taking some of the built-up heat from my sweaty palm, nearly matching my body temperature.
This is the last time I allow myself to be hurt like this. I’m sick of men treating me like something they can use then toss away.
I stop in front of the red Camero and zero in on the headlights as I raise the crowbar above my head.