Saya stormed through the narrow alleys behind the market, her heels clicking loudly on the broken pavement.
Her ponytail was messy now, some strands sticking to her sweaty neck. She didn't care. The cherry lip balm she'd kept applying tasted bitter now, like defeat.
The word "leftovers" kept echoing in her head, getting louder each time.
She had actually offered herself to him, and he'd called her Roam's leftovers.
Shrimp. That bastard Shrimp had looked right at her and said she wasn't worth lowering his standards for.
She stopped under a flickering neon sign for "Lucky Dragon Noodles." Her chest burned. Not just anger, something worse.
Pain. Stupid, childish pain.
How? How could rejection from him, the same boy she was disgusted about, who had been humiliated in the locker room, whose dick she'd mocked, feel like a punch to the chest?
She pressed her palm against her sternum, trying to push the pain away. It didn't work.
Her phone vibrated violently in her pocket.
