A tray slams on the table before Sophia with all the grace of a landslide, and she raises her head from her lunch.
“My name is Brianna Dorsey,” says the girl now sitting in front of her. “Call me Dee.”
‘Dee’ is small and looks incredibly delicate, with the kind of beauty that comes from hours spent in front of a mirror and not having money as an object. Fashionable clothes, perfectly styled pixie cut, impeccably manicured hands. No makeup, though, probably vetoed by the parents.
She’s smiling widely. Her teeth are very, very white.
“Go away,” says Sophia.
Dee’s smile doesn’t falter.
Shit, that smile is pissing her off.
“Go away, Brianna.”
Somehow, Dee’s smile becomes even larger.
“Oh, I like you,” she says, and Sophia really wants to punch her into her ridiculously perfect teeth.
She doesn’t. They’re in the middle of the cafeteria, and Sophia isn’t stupid.
“What do you want?” she grinds out instead.
“I want to be friends,” Dee says brightly.