Hated By The Bully King のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

CoraUgh, why do I feel like I was run over by a train? The whole left side of my body throbs.My eyes flash open when it hits me. Alessandro Beckham’s party last night. The shooter. Alessandro nearly getting killed. My tackling him to the floor. His ungrateful behavior toward me.It’s not like I saved his life or anything. Whatever.Groaning through the pain, I swing my legs over the side of my bed and stuff my feet into my slippers. Voices from outside carry into my open window, and when I wobble over and pull the curtain aside, I see a crowd gathered around my house. Cameramen and reporters.“What…the hell?”I rub my eyes. Nope, they’re still there.My door bursts open and Mom rushes inside. “Cora, get dressed and come to the living room. Quickly.”“What’s going on?”“Get dressed. Now.”“Why—”She slams the door after her.“Seriously, what on Earth?” I open the door and peek out, straining my ears. There’s a strange voice in the living room. Another reporter? Does this have anythin

CoraA few girls turn their heads in my direction and get that disgusted face that girl Heather showered me with only an hour ago. But most of them pretend I don’t exist. They all file into the auditorium and choose seats toward the back, leaving a few free seats sprinkled around. I choose one toward the middle of the back, having no choice but to squeeze past other students’ feet, eliciting frustrated groans.With a huff, I lower myself in my seat and lean back. The girl next to me, pretty, tall, with strawberry blond hair, twists her body to look at me.“Hey,” I say, stretching out a hand. “I’m Cora Williams.”Her gaze drops to my hand and her nose twists as though maggots are attached to my skin. She, too, gives me a quick sweep and doesn’t like what she finds. I’m about to pop a blood vessel, when I finally realize the difference between their uniforms and mine. Theirs is crisp, neatly pressed, and look like a million bucks. Mine? Well, it definitely doesn’t match up. I don’t unde

CoraGathering my things, I pull myself out of the chair and make way to the only remaining desk in the first row. My knees are so wobbly I'm worried they'll give and I'll topple to the floor. My butt finally plants itself on the seat and I keep my eyes on the board, every part of me now beating with rage. How dare he?"Did you forget something?" a voice I don't recognize says, and a second later something smacks me in the head and splats on the floor near my shoe. My novel. I twist my head to glare at the person who chucked it. He's sitting behind Alessandro. I have no idea who he is, but I've definitely seen him hanging around the Princes. Maybe a wanna-be Prince? I narrow my eyes. "That's a library book.""So?""Don't you have any respect?""Don't you have any respect?" a girl on his right mimics in a high-pitch voice, causing some of the other students to snicker."Who goes to a library anyway?" another guy says."Poor people who can't afford to buy books."I dust off the book and

CoraTwo weeks have gone by. Two weeks of me burying my head in my textbooks and staying on top of my grades. I guess now that I have no friends, it’s easy to immerse myself in nothing but schoolwork. The results have been amazing.As for the bullying? Nothing major. Alessandro hasn’t said a single word to me since that first day in pre-calculus, though he throws me dirty looks any chance he can. The other students have been picking on me with minor things, like trying to trip me in the halls, calling me Peasant Girl, sliding things into my locker and under my door. Notes like drawings of a poor girl working the farm or saying how I need to take a shower because I reek. The first time, I actually thought I did reek. I feel lonely, really lonely.Dad loves his job. Mr. Beckham has even made it his personal mission to make sure my dad is happy and that he has everything he needs. Some people at his job even walk on eggshells around him. Maybe I should save the lives of rich offspring mo

Cora“Cora?”I turn and find the camera guy motioning for me to join my parents on the sofa. Alessandro and his dad stand behind it. I squeeze in between my parents, and Mom slides her hand in mine. I don’t have to look at her to know her face radiates with a large smile. It makes my own smile form on my face, though it vanishes when hostility pricks my skin from behind.The cameraman instructs us where to face, where to place our hands. “Smile wide,” he says.This whole process takes about twenty minutes and by the time we’re done, my jaw throbs from all the smiling.Mr. Beckham thanks the crew before they leave the room, the man hauling his equipment with him.Despite my commanding them not to, my eyes shoot to Alessandro. He stands there with his hands in his pockets, gaze on the man and woman’s retreating forms.His dad sweeps his hand toward the doorway. “Marcus, Lori, Cora. Please follow me to the dining room for dinner.”Dad and Mom trail him, with me and Alessandro lingering b