How do you become enemy number one in the state of Iowa? The answer is short and simple: screw up basketball for the entire state.
Guess what?
I did exactly that. I messed up basketball.
Shit. Shit. Shit!
A muffled groan escaped my lips as I yanked at my hair, frustration coiling in my chest. Hunched in a bathroom stall, perched on the toilet seat. I pulled my knees to my chest.
My arms wrapped around them in a feeble attempt at comfort, but it did nothing to stop the trembling. My lips quivered. Tears burned behind my eyes, refusing to fall.
How the hell did I get into this situation? How the hell is this happening to me?
I heard footsteps outside the stall. They stopped right in front of my door, and I held my breath. Everyone was searching for me. If they found me… I shuddered at the thought.
Then I smelled it.
Smoke. Weed.
"Where do you think that bitch is?" a raspy, tiny voice asked, thick with the aftertaste of a drag.
"How the hell am I supposed to know?" another female voice responded. "Give me that."
A pause, followed by a deep inhale.
"I didn't even know a bitch like that went to our school," she continued with a dry chuckle.
"Check this out, Hailey" the first girl said, excitement creeping into her tone. "I just looked her up—she's the best student in the whole school."
"Huh?" Hailey, sounded genuinely shocked. "Is she a transfer? How the hell have I never heard of her?"
"Not a transfer, Hailey. She's been here since freshman year."
"Damn."
"...And how would you know her. She is a goddamn geek. What do you care about—nerds?"
The two burst into hysterical laughter.
I leaned closer, listening as Hailey snatched the phone.
"Shit. She's really ugly," she concluded. "How do ugly people even survive?"
I closed my eyes and sighed. Hailey wasn't wrong.
Ugly fits me perfectly.
I was, without a doubt, the ugliest girl in Iowa High.
Wild, unkempt eyebrows, oversized glasses that swallowed half my face. Brown bangs that covered the rest. Freckles. Uneven skin tone. Baggy clothes that hid any semblance of shape.
The whole package.
And yet…
I liked the girl in the mirror. She was me, And I had learned to love her.
"Where do you think she's hiding?" the first girl asked, mischief lacing her words.
A round of hysterical laughter followed.
"You don't think that bitch is hiding in the bathroom?"
"Either she's hiding here, or she ran home," Hailey said bitterly.
Another round of laughter.
"Running isn't going to save her," the first girl spat. "She's as good as dead if anyone catches her. She destroyed the season for us!"
The pain in her voice was evident.
"Can you imagine how the Rock Valley High kids are gonna roast us? Damn it. THAT UGLY BITCH DID THIS!"
I clutched my thighs tighter.
They had every right to hate me.
"Did you hear something?" the first girl asked suddenly, her voice sharp.
Silence.
"That Loty girl must be hiding here."
I froze.
My heartbeat thundered in my ears.
Badum.
Badum.
"Are you sure?"
"Who else would be hiding in the bathroom when there's a freaking game?"
More silence.
I whimpered softly—too softly. But in the stillness, it felt deafening. I slapped a hand over my mouth.
"I bet you she's here," Hailey murmured.
The door creaked.
My eyes widened. I swallowed hard. My lips parted slightly.
The door kept opening…
"Us?"
"What?"
"Oh, shit!" Hailey cursed. "I almost fell. I leaned on that dirty stall." Her voice dripped with irritation. "I'm saying people like us—hiding to get a quick smoke—would be in the bathroom. And see? No legs. What does that tell you? No one's here."
She sounded smug.
"Loty or Lotta would be fucking stupid to stay in this bathroom. She already ran away." she added.
She got my name wrong. Twice. But that didn't matter as long as they didn't find me.
"Yeeeahhh," the other girl said lazily.
"Exactly. Now, let's get the hell out of here before we get caught."
The stall door swung shut as Hailey let go of it. I listened as they took a few more hurried drags before rushing out of the bathroom.
Click.
The soft sound of the door closing told me I was alone again.
I exhaled shakily.
Pushing the stall door open slightly, I peeked out.
Coast clear.
I carefully shut the door again, leaned my head against the wall, and sighed.
Alone.
Again.
I should have run away the moment I realized what I'd done.
Because hours earlier-
I had broken Cade Morrison's hand before the final match, in front of everyone in Iowa.
And just like that...
I became Enemy Number One.