Chapter 8

Dolores perched on a stiff wooden bench outside the school, flanked by Chloe and Nadia. A pristine white bandage adorned her nose, a stark reminder of the day's events. Steaming inwardly, she shuffled through a notebook filled with scribbled ideas for her Founders' Day project.

The silence stretched, broken only by the rhythmic squeak of bench as Nadia kept leaning and the distant shouts of students. Dolores could feel Chloe and Nadia stealing glances in her direction, their curiosity battling with a sense of cautiousness. The raw anger simmering beneath her surface must have been a clear warning.

Suddenly, Dolores slammed the notebook shut, the sharp sound echoing in the quiet courtyard. "Are you guys even listening?" she burst out, her voice tight with frustration.

Chloe flinched at the outburst. "We're... we're listening," she stammered, her eyes wide.

Nadia chimed in with a hesitant nod. "Yeah, we're listening," she echoed, but her gaze remained glued to Chloe for a brief moment, a silent exchange passing between them.

The tension remained thick in the air even after Dolores opened her notebook. Chloe, ever the optimist, tried to lighten the mood. "So, Dolores," she chirped, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "is that a new accessory you're sporting? Does it come in other colors?"

Dolores shot Chloe a withering glare that silenced her laughter faster than a switch being flipped. The memory of the basketball and the humiliation of it all was still fresh.

Nadia, sensing the shift in mood, leaned closer and spoke in a gentle but firm voice. "Dolores," she said, "we're your friends. You can tell us what happened."

Dolores hesitated. A part of her wanted to confide in them, to share the anger and frustration that bubbled inside her.

With a sigh, Dolores decided a white lie was the best course of action for now. "Just a little fall," she mumbled, staring down at the page of scribbled notes.

"Whoa, clumsy Dolores?" Chloe teased, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "That's a new one."

Before Dolores could unleash another glare, Nadia shot Chloe a warning look, however, they weren't convinced. She scrutinized Dolores with a skeptical gaze. "A fall?" she questioned, her voice laced with disbelief. "Dolores, we're not stupid. Something happened, didn't it?"

Dolores' blood ran cold as a loud, obnoxious whistle pierced the air. It wasn't a whistle, more like a mocking catcall. The trio whipped their head around, their gaze landing on the source of the sound – Axel and his entourage strutting past them. Beside him walked the sandy-haired annoyance from the court, and a third familiar looking figure, tall and cool with an air of effortless superiority.

"That piece of sh't," Dolores muttered under her breath, her anger reignited.

The sandy haired guy stopped in his tracks, a cruel smirk twisting his features. "Hey Newbie," he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. "How's the schnoz holding up?"

Dolores refused to dignify him with a response, her jaw clenched tight. Axel, however, remained silent, but a flicker of something – satisfaction? Challenge? – passed through his blue eyes before he turned away, his posse trailing behind him.

Chloe, ever the quick observer, noticed the interaction. "Why did Elijah Croft just ask about your nose?" she inquired, a frown etching lines on her forehead.

Nadia, her concern evident, chimed in. "Dolores, you did say you fell, right?"

Before Dolores could formulate a reply, Chloe let out a gasp, "Oh. My. Gee!" She fumbled with her phone, her eyes glued to the screen. A moment later, she held it up, her face a mask of shock and betrayal. On the screen, a video played – a video of Dolores getting walloped in the face by a basketball, courtesy of Axel Vynce.

Nadia peered at the phone, recognition dawning on her face. "Dolores, why did you lie about falling?" she asked, her voice laced with disappointment.

Fury erupted in Chloe's eyes as she slammed her phone down on the bench. "I told you so!" she exclaimed, her voice tight with anger. "I told you Axel Vynce was a petty, arrogant jerk!"

She clenched her fists, her gaze burning with a desire to launch herself at Axel and deliver a well-deserved punch. "I swear," she growled, "if I could get my hands on him for hurting you…"

Nadia, ever the voice of reason, placed a calming hand on Chloe's shoulder. "Whoa, Chloe, calm down," she said gently. "Violence won't solve anything."

Turning to Dolores, Nadia squeezed her hand sympathetically. "Good on you for keeping your cool, Dolores," she said. "Even though it must've been tempting to throw a tantrum after that."

Chloe snatched her phone back up, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Oh no," she breathed, scrolling frantically through the screen. "This is insane!"

"What is it?" Dolores asked, a knot of apprehension forming in her stomach.

"This video!" Chloe exclaimed, thrusting the phone towards Dolores. "It's going viral! Everyone on the school forum is talking about it! "

Dolores stared at the screen, her heart pounding in her chest. The grainy video, filmed from a seemingly hidden vantage point, captured the entire incident – Axel throwing the basketball, the sickening thud as it connected with her face, and her stunned reaction. Shame and anger warred within her.

"Suspension, right?" Dolores asked, a sliver of hope flickering in her voice. "He has to get suspended for this, doesn't he?"

Chloe snorted. "Obvi," she scoffed, using school slang for "obviously." "This is solid proof of his misconduct. Even the Vynces can't spin this one."

Nadia offered a more tempered response. "He might get detention, maybe even Saturday school," she said. "But suspension? Knowing his family…" she trailed off, leaving the unspoken implication hanging in the air.

Dolores felt a surge of frustration. Money and influence seemed to shield Axel from any real consequences. "So he gets away with it?" she muttered, her voice heavy with disappointment.

Nadia nodded in agreement. "Besides," she added, "I doubt Axel will bother you again. This whole thing was probably meant as a warning – to you, and anyone else who dares to defy him."

Dolores navigated the bustling school hallways, the afternoon sun casting long shadows through the windows. Her steps led her towards the vast school car park, where a familiar silver sports car gleamed under the afternoon light. Leaning against it, arms crossed, stood Alistair.

He straightened up as soon as he spotted her, his gaze immediately drawn to the bandage on her nose. "Dolores," he said, his voice laced with concern, "are you hurt anywhere else?"

Dolores forced a casual shrug. "I'm fine," she mumbled, averting his gaze. The memory of the video, and the humiliation it brought, was still fresh.

Alistair wasn't convinced. "Fine?" he scoffed. "Dolores, you got hit in the face with a basketball by that... prick, Axel."

Of course, Dolores thought with a sigh. The video did spread like wildfire through the school. There was no escaping it.

Alistair let out a frustrated sigh. "Why'd he even do that?" he asked, his jaw clenched.

Dolores hesitated for a moment.

Finally, she decided on a simple explanation. "Apparently," she said, her voice flat, "I defied him."

Alistair frowned, concern etched into his features. "Defied him how?"

Dolores kicked a pebble across the asphalt, her voice flat. "During the assembly."

Alistair frowned, leaning closer to peer at the bandage. "During the assembly? What happened?"

Dolores replied. "Just… answered a question he couldn't."

Alistair's eyes widened in surprise. He knew Dolores was smart and outspoken, but challenging Axel Vynce in front of the entire school? That took guts.

Alistair's frown deepened. "He couldn't? What kind of question?"

She shrugged, finally meeting his eyes with a defiant glint. "Doesn't matter. Just some lame history fact about Grimstone."

Alistair wasn't buying it. He opened his mouth to press further, but then stopped. "Hold on," he said, "I didn't even go to the assembly. Coach Davies made me do extra laps for missing practice."

Dolores blinked, surprised. "Oh." She hadn't considered that.

Alistair studied her for a moment, then a wry smile touched his lips. "So, you stood up to the almighty Axel Vynce, huh? Must've been quite the question."

She crossed her arms and huffed. "Yeah, well, look where it got me."

Alistair reached out, his fingers brushing the bandage on her nose. Dolores flinched back instinctively, the warmth morphing into a sharp pang of irritation.

"Dude," she snapped, pulling further away. "You don't have to act like you care."

Alistair's hand hovered in mid-air for a moment before slowly retracting. His smile disappeared, replaced by a look of hurt. "Dolores, I do care. We're best friends, remember?"

Dolores stared at him, her anger warring with a pang of guilt.

She sighed, looking down at her shoes. "Yeah, right," she mumbled, the words lacking conviction.

Without another word, she walked past him and climbed into the passenger seat of his silver sports car. Alistair watched her go, a bittersweet feeling tugging at his heart. He did care about Dolores. More than he cared about anyone else, actually. But admitting that was a whole other ball game. Especially to a girl as fiercely independent as Dolores

He slid behind the wheel, starting the engine with a frustrated groan. As he pulled out of the parking lot, he stole a glance at Dolores. Her face was set in a stubborn frown, but there was a hint of vulnerability in her eyes.