I was surrounded, standing in nothing but my bra and panties in the girls' locker room. I tried shielding torso with my thin arms--as if there was anything to cover.
I glanced into Gina Tavelli's steely eyes and saw amusement. Not like I should be surprised--I wasn't new to this situation. But we were seniors now, two weeks away from graduating. What was the point?
"Move it, scarecrow," she said. "We don't have all day."
Instinctively, I backed up against the cold tiles of the shower, the smooth surface sticking to my sweaty skin. Where was the coach when you needed her?
Savannah Bosworth closed in on me from the left. A single auburn curl fell over one of her dancing eyes.
I looked from her to Gina. Their harassment had never been about physical harm. They always aimed to humiliate me, and I usually put up with it, but this was going too far. I spread my hands together over the front of my white cotton panties.
"Move your hands," Madison Meeks bellowed from the right. She was closing in on me too, her olive skin radiant in the dim light.
"Come on, this is ridiculous. We're eighteen, not twelve," I said. I wanted them to see I wasn't scared of them.