Bring It On

NESSA'S POV

I walked out of the dining room and headed straight back to the kitchen without looking back even once. The second I stepped into the hallway, the sound of their laughter hit me full force, loud and mean and full of the kind of joy that only came from watching someone else look stupid. They were mocking me. I could hear it in every burst of noise that followed me down the hall, and the more I listened, the tighter my hands curled into fists at my sides. By the time I was done with all of them, there would be no room left for laughter on their idiotic faces. That thought sat solid and cold in my chest as I pushed open the kitchen door and walked back into the room that still smelled like the meal I had spent almost an hour putting together.

The nine plates of chicken and vegetable stir-fry over quinoa still sat exactly where I had left them, lined up in a neat row along the long counter. Looking at them made something inside me snap harder than it already had. My rage, which I had thought could not get any higher, tripled in a single heartbeat. The food I had chopped and stirred and seasoned under pressure, the food they had ordered me to make as a test, sat there cooling while they stuffed their faces with greasy pizza and laughed about how they had made a fool of me. I stood still for a few seconds just staring at the plates, breathing hard through my nose, before I started looking around the kitchen for the biggest tray I could find. 

I yanked open one cabinet after another, pushing aside stacks of smaller plates and bowls until my hands closed on a large metal serving tray that looked big enough to hold at least half of what I needed. I pulled it out, set it on the counter with a loud clang, and started transferring the plates onto it as fast as I could.

Unfortunately the tray only held five of the nine plates before it was full and heavy. I left the other four sitting on the counter and wrapped both hands around the handles of the tray, testing the weight. It was solid and warm from the food, and the smell of lemon and herbs rose up into my face as I lifted it. I did not care that the plates were still hot. I did not care that the sauce might spill. All I cared about was getting back into that dining room and wiping the smirks off their faces. I carried the tray carefully out of the kitchen and started down the hallway again, and the closer I got to the dining area the louder the noise became. Their laughter bounced off the walls, mixed with the sound of talking and the occasional scrape of a chair, and every step I took made the anger in my chest burn hotter.

I walked through the doorway with the tray held steady in front of me, and the second I appeared, every single voice in the room cut off. The nine of them went quiet so fast it was almost funny. They sat up straighter in their chairs, pizza slices halfway to their mouths, and stared at me with confused looks that slowly turned into something closer to wariness. One of the older boys who was not part of the three I had already marked as trouble leaned forward a little and frowned at the tray in my hands.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice carrying across the sudden silence. “We’re already having dinner. We don’t need whatever that is anymore.”

I scoffed lightly under my breath, but I did not say a single word in answer. I simply kept walking, carrying the heavy tray all the way to the huge wooden table. I stopped at the head of it where the quiet one sat with that same controlled expression he always wore. Without rushing or raising my voice, I set the tray down on the table in front of him with a solid thud that made the plates rattle. Then I looked straight into his eyes and, in a deadpan tone that left no room for argument, I said one single word.

“Eat.”

Every boy at the table stared at me like I had completely lost my mind. A few of the younger ones exchanged quick glances. The quiet one himself sat there for a long second before he let out a loud, mocking scoff that rolled through the room. He leaned back in his chair and looked up at me with pure arrogance written across his face.

“Get over yourself,” he said, his voice low and sharp. “Do you really think if you walk in here and try to stand your ground we’re suddenly going to become obedient little puppies and eat the nonsense you made?”

The second the word “nonsense” left his mouth, something inside me went completely still and cold. I turned my full attention on him. He was still looking up at me with that smug little smile sitting comfortably on his lips, the same smile he had worn when he told me earlier that he wanted to see how long I would last. I did not think, and I did not hesitate. I simply reached out, picked up one of the plates from the tray, and without a second of care for the fact that the food was still hot, I threw the entire plate of chicken, vegetables, and quinoa straight into his stupid face.

The plate hit with a wet, heavy slap. Food exploded across his features, sauce and bits of broccoli sliding down his cheeks and into the collar of his shirt. He shot up from his seat so fast the chair scraped hard against the floor, sputtering and wiping at his eyes with both hands while his voice rose into a full yell.

“Are you crazy?” he shouted, staring at me like he could not believe what had just happened. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

I simply smiled. It was not a big smile, just a small, calm curve of my mouth that I knew would make him angrier. Exactly as I expected, the blonde with the buzz cut and the brunette both jumped to their feet on either side of the table, looking furious as hell. Their chairs nearly toppled from the force of how fast they stood. The rest of the room stayed frozen, every other boy staring with wide eyes and open mouths. I did not give the three of them time to recover or to say another word. I reached for the tray again and grabbed two plates at the same time, one in each hand, and in one smooth motion I threw them simultaneously at the two boys who were standing opposite each other.

The blonde was closer to where I stood, so he got the worse of it. The full plate of food hit him square in the chest and face, sauce and quinoa exploding across his shirt and dripping down onto the table. The brunette only got a lighter splash that caught the side of his shoulder and the edge of his jaw, but it was still enough to make him flinch back hard. The shock on all three of their faces was perfect. For a few long seconds none of them moved. The other six boys still seated around the table looked like they had forgotten how to breathe. I stood there with empty hands and a calm expression, watching the food drip down the fronts of the three idiots who had spent the entire evening trying to push me around.

“Are you still sure you’re not eating?” I asked in a voice that stayed level and almost polite.

The question broke whatever spell had held the rest of the table in place. Two of the remaining boys closest to the tray scrambled forward and grabbed the last two plates like their lives depended on it, holding them carefully as if they were afraid I might throw those too. The other four boys shoved their chairs back and rushed out of the dining hall without another word, heading in the direction of the kitchen as fast as their legs would carry them. I watched them go for a second before calling after them in the same calm tone.

“You had better be heading to the kitchen to get your own plates,” I said, raising my voice just enough for them to hear me in the hallway. “Or else.”

They seemed to get the message because the sound of their footsteps did not slow down. I turned back to the three who still stood around the table covered in the dinner they had refused. Even though their faces were still tight with fury, something else sat in their eyes that made the air feel thicker. Amusement, glee, and a dark kind of interest that was almost scary in how open it was. The blonde with the buzz cut was the first to recover enough to speak. He wiped a streak of sauce from his cheek with the back of his hand, looked at the mess on his shirt, and then smiled at me in a way that sent a real chill straight down my spine.

“Oh, I’m definitely going to enjoy making your life absolute hell,” he said, his voice low and almost cheerful. “You can look forward to having the time of your life with me, Vanessa.”

The way he said my full name made the chill settle deeper, but I did not look away and I did not step back. I held my ground right there at the head of the table and met all three of their stares without blinking. My heart was beating hard, the strange pull I still felt toward them mixing with the leftover anger in a way that left my skin hot, but I kept my voice steady when I answered.

“Bring it on, boys,” I told them. “I will also have so much fun making sure you know I am not to be messed with.”