Trapped (Bullied Book 4) (Bullied Series) by Vera Hollins (romance novel chinese novels .TXT) 📕

was done for if he got his hands on me. I grabbed Marcus’s hand and ran, leading us away from that hallway. I didn’t stop until we reached the foyer and I was sure he hadn’t followed us.

I supported myself against my knees to catch my breath. I was astounded by the courage I’d had to talk back to him like that.

Marcus burst out laughing. “You’re amazing. His face when you said that was priceless! He totally deserved it.”

I let out a short chuckle, but I wasn’t actually amused. It was just to hide how awful I felt.

With Blake, I couldn’t expect anything but an infinite loop of embarrassments and insults. I’d gotten back at him now, but the bullying wasn’t going to end. There would always be another day filled with his hatred. Always and always.

I cast Marcus a fake smile to mask my pain. “I guess you think I’m a freak because of the way he treats me.”

“Why would I think that? You’re not weird at all.”

“But Blake keeps saying nasty things to me. It’s too much.”

“It’s not your fault he’s too stupid to realize what a great person you are.”

Everything in me warmed, and a real smile broke out on my face. “You really think that?”

“Yeah, and it’s not just because you’re Kevin’s friend and you might help me with…” He smiled sheepishly. “You know.”

“Right, Kevin—you want me to talk to Kevin about you. Sneaky.” He shrugged his shoulders, chuckling. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try to talk to him.”

Marcus didn’t need to know how bad his chances were, seeing that Kevin crushed on Hayden and me.

“Thank you! I said this, but I’ll say it again—you’re amazing!”

“It’s good to know at least someone thinks I’m amazing,” I muttered to my chin. “I need to go now.”

“Sure. See you tomorrow.”

“See you.”

I waved at him and headed to Mr. Maynard’s office. Each step that took me closer felt heavier. I expected Blake to retaliate, so I figured this would be a good time for him to skip detention. Or have sudden amnesia and forget about my outburst.

Tugging at my shirt so it wouldn’t show my stomach flab, I knocked on the door and entered Mr. Maynard’s extremely small office. Blake was already here, sitting on the only chair in the room beside Mr. Maynard’s. His jaw was set hard as he glared at me, and I hoped for a miracle that would allow me to get out of this detention unscathed.

There was barely a place for me to stand in the room illuminated by a weak light bulb hanging from a cord. I had to be squeezed between the janitor’s desk and his small drawer cabinet. The desk was loaded with an old computer and stacks of folders and papers, which threatened to tip over to the ground.

“Miss Metts, you’re here. Good,” Mr. Maynard said with a smile. He was a kind man in his fifties, and I found it easy to return his smile. I glanced at his receding hairline and wondered if he was dying his hair black because I couldn’t spot even a single gray hair.

Blake shifted on his chair, and I sucked in my breath. He was too close, his appealing scent drifting up to my nose. If I moved only a little, the hand he had resting on his thigh would touch my leg.

“So will you finally spill what this is all about?” Blake asked gruffly, but Mr. Maynard—always so nice—didn’t take offense.

He smiled and nodded. “Of course. Now that Miss Metts is here, I can tell you what’s expected of you this week. There are a few rooms in the basement that need to be refurbished.”

I sensed Blake tense, and I glanced at him. He had an expression that was completely unexpected. It was terror.

“You’re not going to refurbish those rooms, if that’s what worries you,” he joked with a chuckle, but Blake wasn’t amused. He wasn’t amused at all, staring at him completely frozen.

“In order to refurbish the rooms, we need to remove the things that are in there. It’s some old school equipment that hasn’t been used for more than a decade now. All you need to do is pack them into boxes and throw them into dumpsters.”

“Did you say a basement?” Blake asked slowly through clenched teeth. It was as if he’d ignored everything Mr. Maynard said except for that one word.

“Yes, Mr. Jones. They are in the basement.” Blake fisted his hand on his thigh, his artery pumping furiously in his neck, but he didn’t say anything. “Those old rooms were used as storage, but we have a serious mold problem, so we need to renovate them as soon as possible. You will work for one hour after school each day, and you’ll start with one room. If you finish cleaning it before Thursday, you will go to the next one, and so on. The boxes are already down there. Now, do you have any questions?”

He looked between Blake and me, but neither of us said a word. I glanced at Blake and saw him staring at the ground with a vacant gaze, like he was out of it. His breathing grew ragged.

“Mr. Jones?” he asked him, but Blake didn’t move an inch, let alone acknowledge the question. His gaze never moved from the floor.

“No,” I answered, staring at Blake in confusion. “No questions.”

Mr. Maynard clasped his hands together and cast us another one of his warm smiles. “Good! Then I’ll take you there and leave you to it. Come with me.”

I was the first to step out, wanting to put as much space between Blake and me as possible. The school was mostly empty now, and our steps echoed in the long hallways. I glanced at Blake over my shoulder. I didn’t miss his heavy steps or stiff posture as he stared at the ground with scrunched-up eyebrows. He was rubbing his left hand incessantly.

“Here we are,” Mr. Maynard said, opening the double doors that led downstairs.