I was sitting in the cafeteria, barely paying attention as Fiona droned on, as usual. Her voice was like background noise while I picked at my food.
“Party pooper,” Zach muttered as he walked past us, balancing his tray.
I rolled my eyes, muttering, “Asshole.”
Fiona wasn’t as subtle.
“Get a life, you dumb wretch! You’re always off point!” she shouted after him, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.
I couldn’t help but chuckle at her fiery attitude.
I had already mentally prepared myself before coming back to school, rehearsing lines in my head for anyone who dared bring up the incident. But with Fiona’s sharp tongue by my side, I felt untouchable. She was like a verbal shield, ready to take down anyone who stepped out of line.