Derision Read Online Free

There’s just something about me that puts others off…and I swear, if I could figure out what it is… But I’ve been trying to figure it out my whole life.
    In high school, it was the mean girls. The girls who ran in cliques and couldn’t dye their hair without first getting approval from the queen bee. Now, nothing’s really changed. Those same girls are just older. Smile to your face, give you a fake hug, then leave you in the dust as they flee being contaminated by “the awkward girl”.
    Introvertitis.
    It’s not contagious, but I get the same looks terminally ill people do. The “we pity you but please don’t touch me” look. Introversion is not a disease. But it’s plagued me my whole life just the same.
    I run my hand over my dark waves, and even though I try not to, I look in the mirror. I’m pretty. And that’s not vain to admit. I’m no model, but growing up, you know if you’re pretty or not. I’m not drop-dead gorgeous. No, because those women are the ones other girls flock to. They’re so high up the ladder that everyone clings to them just to have some of their spotlight cast around them.
    I’m just pretty enough to be hated. I’m a safe sort of pretty to shun. No real backlash if I’m ostracized. Also, I work damn hard. While Sophie and Chelsea and the other women in the office are bar hopping, I’m at home working on cases. And that also makes me a freak.
    I don’t drink. I don’t party. And I don’t run in cliques. What I do do is stand in the corner by myself at company parties and hide in bathroom stalls.
    And for what?
    Do I really believe Julia is going to make me her equal? From attending one company party? No. I have a feeling Julia is the new queen bee incognito, and I’m just making a fool of myself.
    I look over the stupid dress I bought. The black material too tight. The silly black thigh-highs too irritating. This is the very thing I vowed I would not do when I first entered this law firm; I would not conform.
    But it was a chance, wasn’t it? The promotion? The money could mean getting my brother the treatment he really, really needs…but then what?
    Shaking off the hurt, I situate my bra that keeps my boobs from just popping out of the dress. I ache to be home, buried under the covers, lost in a dramatic novel that will make my problems seem like the petty issues they are.
    After I wash my hands and have hidden out in the bathroom for a safe amount of time, I brace myself at the door. When I open it, the beat of 80s pop music blasts my face. A sinking feeling pulls at my heart. Before my mother got sick, she listened to her 80s playlist almost every day. The reminder of her only reaffirms my decision to get out of here. Quickly.
    I will my feet to move me forward through the dimly lit conference room which has been transformed into a dance club, complete with churning strobe lights and a DJ.
    No one will cop to it—the universal belief that this party is for “company growth”— but every person here knows this is a close-mouth celebration for the firm’s most high profile client.
    Malcolm Bates.
    Just his name sounds sinister. Alleged rapist. Multiple counts. Many testimonies wiped from his slate, as if they never existed. The women’s lives torn apart and defamed on the stand.
    But this is the law. And the law proved Malcolm Bates innocent of the allegations against him.
    Our firm’s stance? A rich, powerful man such as Doctor Malcolm Bates must suffer for his status and wealth. His penance for being a successful cardiologist is slander.
    I haven’t had the privilege to work on any of his cases, so I’m trying to reserve my judgment, keeping my feelings neutral. High profile clients are out of my depth…unless I somehow manage to impress Julia enough to get the promotion, which will put me working directly under one of the partners.
    I can do the work. I’m good at my job. That’s not what intimidates me—it’s the pressure of supervising the very women