Chapter Four - The Showdown

"You?"

"What the fuck?" he roared with a look of sheer disgust while I stared at him with an open mouth, still in the middle of recovering from my shock.

"What are you doing here?" I finally shrieked.

He raised a brow, barely masking his irritation at my question.

"What the fuck do you mean by what am I doing here? What are you doing in the boys' changing room?" he demanded.

"Wait!" My eyes widened as I slowly put everything together. "I've been talking to you? It was you yesterday?"

I was glad I wasn't the only taken aback by the realization. As he grasped the information, his eyes darkened with intense loathing for me, then a dangerous look flashed in them.

For a second, I forgot all about my own anger when he took a furious stride out of the shower area and towered over me.

His eyes seemed to be on a mission. A mission to pierce my soul. There was a threat lingering behind them as he asked in a low voice, "are you playing games with me, Andrews?"

I was baffled. Games? Wait! He didn't think I was deliberately talking to him, did he?

What the hell did he think of himself? That assumption alone of his ticked me off and I found myself taking a hostile step towards him and lifting a finger to his chest. "Do you honestly think I have nothing better—"

"Yesterday in the coffee shop," he cut me off, keeping his eyes on mine as he took another step forward, consequently making me run low on my previous courage and take a step back. "You talked a good game of absolutely hating me and wanting nothing to do with me."

He tilted his head to the side as the pensive look on his face morphed into self-satisfied arrogance as his eyes ran over me brazenly.

Then as unexpected as it was, a little smirk curled across his lips and the sound that came out of him next could've been ruled out as imaginary by me if I didn't witness it in person right then.

A deep chuckle erupted from his throat as his eyes flicked across me one more time. For a second, I wanted to punch him but instead, I looked down at myself self-consciously until he clicked his tongue with a shake of his head. "I get it, Andrews. I'm flattered. But I'm turning you down."

"Excuse me?"

"Obviously you have a thing for me."

Say what?

I stared at him blankly for three seconds. Then, the chuckles were unleashed. It started out as a little chuckle of disbelief, and soon, I was laughing my guts out. Holding my stomach and panting for breath kind of laugh.

"Oh my God!" I said once it had subsided. "No, I do not have a thing for you. If I knew it was you in there, I wouldn't even be caught in the proximity of this changing room."

All this time, he'd been watching me with his arms crossed over his chest. I couldn't tell if he was amused himself or even more annoyed. His face remained stoic.

"Right." One of his brows perked up. "You want me to believe this and the coffeeshop encounter is all a coincidence. We don't talk for years and now suddenly you're bumping into me all the time. Listen, Andrews, I appreciate you trying to get my attention and you have it. But I'm gonna have to let you down because it's never gonna happen."

"I don't want anything to happen." I held up a finger.

"People do turn defensive after rejection and I wouldn't expect any different from you. But if that's really the case, then." He pointed his thumb to the door indifferently, asking me to leave.

But I obviously couldn't leave like this, now, could I? Not after giving my enemy a major ego boost by making him think that I had a thing for him? I couldn't live with this.

I scoffed. "You really think I've got a thing for you? With all due disrespect, did you take a good look in the mirror lately?"

"I did and it's something to die for. You feel the same or you wouldn't be here."

Have you ever had a person in your life whose mere sight made you want to kick their ass even if they were doing something as basic as breathing? Matt Williams was that person for me and in my defense, he was doing more than just breathing. He was getting on my fucking nerves.

I balled my fists angrily, my anger rising with every minuscule stretch of his lips caused by his infuriating smirk.

"You're too conceited for your own good. So, shut up before I kick you where the sun don't shine and actually confirm my no-balls theory," I warned.

I didn't realize there were lockers behind me, not until he moved forward and I stepped back again. As much as I wanted to put up a brave front whenever we locked horns, he insisted on effortlessly wrecking it every single time. And the fact that he'd now probably realized he could that, things weren't going to be in my favour.

My back fell against the lockers just as my enemy placed an arm on one side of my face. My eyes drifted to his forearm, and I couldn't help but remember how I was admiring it a day ago. Ew!

"Do it," he challenged. "I'd like to see you try."

"If you don't get away from me right now, I actually will."

"Oh, I insist. Please do."

If looks could burn, he'd be ash. Ash that I would later blow over some dumpster because that's where he belonged.

I clenched my jaw in anger, glaring at him. My leg twitched to kick him and make him see stars but I couldn't.

He waited for my actions with his annoying little smirk and then finally took a step back. "Like I guessed, all talk, no action."

"Way to sound desperate, Williams. You ever think that maybe I just don't wanna touch you there, even with my knee? Wouldn't wanna risk giving you a hard on."

My choice of words definitely took him by surprise as he let out another chuckle. "Oh, trust me. You can't, even if you tried. Your face is of great help there."

My jaw dropped and with a smug look of victory, he turned around and snatched a pair of jeans from his duffel bag. The same duffel bag that I thought belonged to Sean yesterday.

My enemy didn't even care about my presence enough to wait for me to leave before putting them on. I was just glad he didn't take off his towel until he was done buttoning his jeans.

All talk, no action, huh?

I took a careful step forward and snatched the water bottle off the bench. It was the same one I had knocked over yesterday. "Oh, I can do some action. Just not the one you'll see coming."

I gave him no time to react, let alone defend himself because the moment he turned around in confusion, I splashed the water on his face, watching it trail down his chest and disappear in the waistband of his jeans.

He'd been brutally caught off guard. His eyes were shut close in surprise and I watched as the water still cascaded down his face from his hair.

I grinned. Ha! Take that.

Several moments passed. His face remained stoic, giving nothing away.

I kept my attention on his eyes, waiting for them to open so I could see his reaction. And when they finally did, they were livid. I saw nothing but pure, animalistic rage. He was looking at me like a football player would look at an opponent after they'd just deliberately tripped them. Like they were out for blood now.

"Let me guess," I said with an innocent blink of my eyes. "You're about to say what the fuck? You know, that seems to be your favourite phrase. Is it because that's the first thing you heard your parents say, right after you were born?"

He exhaled slowly. Out of the corner of my eyes, I noticed his fists clenching. He seemed to be on the verge of grabbing me and ripping me to shreds. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't at all wary. For the first time, I was kind of hoping he would throw an insult so I would know that's all he was going to do.

So, I decided to give my closing sentence right before I could flee so he wouldn't think his glare had scared me off.

"Still think I've got a thing for you? Hope that was enlightening enough." I gave a little shrug, smiling sweetly as if there were an angel halo over my head.

Murder. That's all I could see in his eyes. When his lips moved, I watched with anticipation, already dreading the words that were going to come out of his mouth.

"You are dead."

I swallowed as subtly as possible.

"I'll pass." I pretended to act all cool and slipped to the door but deep down, I was freaking out. I had acted on impulse, we were alone in the room and I didn't wanna find out what he was capable of doing, especially when he was mad.

I'd just grabbed the door handle when his palm fell flat on the door, holding it shut. I could feel him very close behind me and I tensed up.

"Come on, Becks." Surprisingly and confusingly, I could hear a smile in his voice and my brows pulled together. He sounded way too calm for something I'd just done and that made a chill run down my spine. "Not so easily. You're yet to thank me."

"Thank you? For what?" I did my best to not stutter.

"For the makeover."

"What—" Just as I turned around, he emptied something on my head. A fluid cascaded down my face and I brought my fingers up in confusion.

A profound gasp escaped my mouth at the blue liquid on the tips of my fingers. I stared at him with wide eyes.

"You're welcome." He wiped the water off his brow with his thumb and flicked the droplets away, all the while keeping his eyes on mine. They held a victory glint as he flashed the empty ink pot at me. Who even owns that shit anymore?

Pushing him away, I ran towards the mirror and gasped at my reflection. My blonde hair had several dark blue highlights while my face looked like a map of tiny rivers.

"You. Asshole." I snapped my head to him and at a time when I should've been washing my face before the ink settled, I was focused on exacting my revenge. I was out for blood. My enemy's blood.

I took a furious step forward but he brushed my anger off with a roll of his eyes and a scoff. It clearly said 'what can she possibly do?'

His mistake: he underestimated me.

So, when I pounced on him with a cry of war, he wasn't expecting it. I pushed him with all my body force and we both landed right out of the changing room into the corridor because the poor door swung open under our weights.

"Fuck," came out a groan.

"How dare you?" I snapped, pinning him to the ground. Judging by his built, I knew I couldn't hold him for long so I had to be fast. I locked my knees on top of his forearms to keep him from using his hands for as long as possible.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he snapped, completely caught off guard. "Get off me."

"Not until you get..." I stained my hands with ink from my face and hair and smeared it all over his face even before he could begin to defend himself. I was surprisingly fast when it came to revenge on my enemy. "...a taste of your own medicine. Take that!"

Obviously, it didn't take him a lot of effort to free his hands. He snatched them from under my knees without so much as a struggle and caught my hands in the air before I could reach his neck but I was hell bent on staining him so I doubled over and rubbed my ink-stained hair and face against his chest.

"Are you out of your fucking—"

"Ha! Take that! Take that! And that!" I grinned once my mission was successful as I stared down at the blotches of ink on his face and torso.

He looked mad. Very mad. He opened his mouth to curse but something made us both freeze. The laughs and whispers finally caught our attention and our heads snapped up at the same time to realize we were fighting like animals in a busy corridor.

Not to mention, I was straddling him. I noticed a few people in the crowd with their phones out, clicking pictures and making videos. Meera was there, shaking her head before staring up at the ceiling and probably cursing fate in frustration.

My eyes widened with horror when I noticed a few football players in the crowd and I desperately started looking for Sean. To my relief, he wasn't there.

I looked down at Matt just at the same time he looked up at me with a murderous scowl. "You crazy—"

"Fuck you, Williams." I cursed, yanked my hands free from his grip and got off him.

And then I ran past the crowd and didn't stop until I was in the girls' bathroom.

After five minutes, when I had uttered a thousand cuss words out loud to my enemy while rinsing the ink out of my hair and face as best as I could manage under the sink faucet, Meera and Cheryl entered the bathroom.

Their faces held sympathy and I sighed, looking back into the mirror.

"Are you alright?" Cheryl asked.

"I'm fine."

"What happened?"

"It was Matt. It was Matt all along." I actually felt like crying right there. Every effort that I'd made since yesterday was a waste and the progress with Sean that I was on cloud nine about was practically non-existent. We were exactly where we'd been all this time. Nowhere.

"What?" Meera blinked. "How's that possible? We saw Sean enter the changing room yesterday."

"I don't know."

"No, I'm sure we saw him. I mean, Sean's a blond. Matt's got dark hair. We would notice."

"Oh no." Cheryl blinked. "You guys didn't know about the back door?"

"What?" Meera frowned.

"There's a back door in the boys' changing room. Mack showed me once when we sneaked in to um...never mind." She sighed, walking up to me. "I'm so sorry, Becks. I wish I'd told you sooner."

"It's not your fault."

"We'll make a new plan. I promise." She squeezed my shoulder, then held out a fresh t-shirt with a reassuring smile. "Meanwhile, I thought you might need this."

"Seeing how it's going, I guess I'll wear your entire wardrobe in a week."

"I don't mind. As long as you lend me that cute black dress of yours in return whenever I need it." She blinked innocently.

"Deal." I chuckled, grabbing the t-shirt.

*****

I'd had better days.

Days when I didn't roam around the school looking like a Smurf. Days when people didn't point at me and chuckle with their friends the moment I walked past them.

Okay. This was the worst day ever.

And it was also the one where I wished I wouldn't even accidentally run into Sean. I realized I'd been wishing that a lot lately, all thanks to my enemy and his detestable presence.

Meera and I were now lazily sauntering to the last class of the day when a voice stopped us.

"Rebekah?"

We stopped walking and turned around. Meera raised a brow at me because it was the last person I would expect to greet me with a smile.

It was June. Her and I, we never talked. Not after the 6th grade catfight we had at my birthday party when she called my cousin a fat pig.

Let's just say that she was the one who gained some weight after that because of the cast on her foot. To be fair, she pushed me first and I wasn't the one who'd asked her to wear those killer heels so she could stumble and twist her ankle at the slightest push.

My parents were so mad, they didn't throw me a birthday party for the next two years; not to mention the embarrassment and many, many apologies to June's parents.

"What?" I asked June.

"Not you. She means me."

Someone walked past me, leaving behind a trail of some bitingly strong perfume and my mood instantly ran downhill at the revelation.

Rebecca Morgan.

She hated me and I wasn't even sure why. Maybe it was because June and her were besties.

"Nice highlights." She chuckled. "And your face, oh my God! It looks like somebody on crack attempted makeup. It suits you, by the way."

"I don't even wanna get started with you. Not today. It's simply not—" I started but June cut me off.

"It's a shame you share names with her," she said with a laugh, clearly hoping Rebecca would laugh too but when she didn't, June looked between me and her, and awkwardly subsided her laugh. Her bestie, however, was busy sizing me up.

"Barely." My evil namesake threw me a forced smile. "I'm the one who knows how to actually spell it. Isn't that right, Rebekah?"

It's spelled both ways. I refrained from saying the one thing I'd been saying since I knew life.

"We're just homophones. Sound same but we're different in every way. The better version being me, of course." She smirked.

June let out an exaggerated chuckle like the minion she was.

I scoffed. "Is that what you tell yourself to get sleep every night?"

She raised a fiery red brow, matching her newly dyed red hair. I almost hadn't recognized her. It was a new look for her every year; the last I saw her with her original browns was in freshman year. Last year, she was a blonde but that backfired because everyone felt it was inspired by me. Being namesakes only made it worse for her.

"I don't have to tell myself anything," she barked. "Unlike you, who has to console herself every night that mommy loves you."

"Seriously?" Meera cut in, looking just about ready to throw hands as she stepped up to her. "What are you, five? Knock it off."

I knew it was a bad idea the moment I'd drunkenly confessed at Tommy's party in 8th grade that I felt like my mom didn't love me enough just because she was a busy, working woman. Of course, I was just being a silly kid. I regretted it the moment it came out of my mouth when everyone just went quiet and sympathetic. Cut me some slack. I was drunk for the first time ever.

"Tell me, Becks," Rebecca incited. "Have things changed at all or are you still desperate as ever for mommy's love?"

I forced out a chuckle in disbelief. She would say anything to ruin someone's day if she didn't like them. "It's not even worth it, Rebecca. You know nothing about me and my family so I'm not even having this conversation with you."

With a devilish gleam in her eyes, she leaned forward and whispered, "whatever helps you sleep at night, Becks."

"You're not impressing anyone," Meera flared up. "Fuck off."

Rebecca was absolutely vexed at that but kept her bitch face on, trying to convince us that she still had the upper hand as she set her eyes on Meera now. "I'm not talking to—"

"Attention!" The loud intercom buzz and the voice following it interrupted her. "Matthew Williams and Rebekah Andrews, please report to the principal's office immediately."

Well shit

Hey guys!

What do you think about the new cover? I spent like two hours on it and when I finally uploaded it, it ended up looking more like an Instagram edit than a cover. Clearly, I'm not a designer lol.

But keep an eye out for the next one coz I'm really gonna try and outdo myself *flips hair*

Let me know what you guys think about this chapter.

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