Chapter 10 Don't mess with me (2)

“What did you just say to me?“

“I don't care. It's not like it's gonna be on me.” I replied aggressively, “You know, chemical fiber clothes don't even deserve to stay in the laundry.”

“Pick up my clothes, bitch.”

“Why? Because you're on a disability program grant?”

Stella stares at me with wide eyes, itching to stretch her false eyelashes and stick them in my eyes.

“You're going to regret saying that.”

The three girls watching the show gather around, a mafia do-gooder, maybe a female version of the Russian mob.

“Hey.” Someone laid a hand on my shoulder. "I think this is yours."

I turned to see who it was. She took off the jacket slung over her back, hooking it with a finger, and extended it toward Stella's arm. "Brooklyn sent me to find her. The locker room can be quite the labyrinth for the newcomers."

Stella gave a side-eye to the girl next to her, who cleverly grabbed the jacket from the newcomer's hand. "You better hurry to check in; Brooklyn is counting heads."

"Girls,"