David folded his arms over his chest and grinned, clearly deciding to battle haughty disdain with snarky nonchalance. Well, his posture was snarky nonchalance at least, but his eyes were practically burning. “Expect it all you want, Pres. I stand by that story.”

If I hadn’t already been so rattled, I wouldn’t have said what I said next. But David had pushed so many of my buttons that I just smirked back. “Retract it, or I am going to file a formal complaint with the school board.”

The grin faltered.

“It would be the second one, right? Didn’t someone on the debate team file in September after you accused him of cheating?” I rolled my eyes upward, like I was trying to remember something. “And didn’t your aunt say something like if you got one more demerit, she was making you resign from the paper? I seem to recall her mentioning it to my mom at Cotillion practice.”

The look of naked fear that skittered across his face made me feel sick. So did the sound of my voice. I sounded so much like Leigh-Anne.

He made me do it, I told myself. You’re not a mean girl, but he made you be one.

David recovered quickly, but his grin was ugly now. “Fair enough, Pres. Next issue.”

“Thank you.”

I cleared my throat and picked up my book bag. As I turned to go, David called out, “Harper?”

“What?”

He took a minute, like he was trying to decide if he should say whatever it was he wanted to say. I wondered if he felt like I had, like he didn’t want to say something hateful, but I’d made him.

“You know, all the articles aside, I actually thought you were better than this,” he finally said. “Nice to know that you are just another high school bitch.”

Maybe it was that his words were so close to what Dr. DuPont had said right before he nearly murdered me. Maybe it was because a little part of me felt like David might be right. Or maybe it was because I just really didn’t like to be called names. Whatever the reason, my right hand shot up to slap David Stark across the face. I didn’t even consider my new superpowers, and if those new powers would mean David’s head would go flying off.

But it didn’t matter. Half an inch from David’s cheek, my hand stopped in midair. And it wasn’t because I had some crisis of conscience, either. It was like my hand hit an invisible wall right by his head.

He had flinched in anticipation of the slap, but now he opened his eyes and looked at my palm as it hovered next to his face. I wasn’t sure which one of us looked more surprised.