“God, Fitzgerald, calm down. It’s not that serious.”
Not that serious.
Not.
That.
Serious.
I see fucking red.
The brunette reaches for the phone and I shove her hard enough that her back slams against the sink. Her shocked gasp echoes through the bathroom.
“What is your problem?!” she screeches.
“My problem?” I laugh. “You wanna know what my fucking problem is?” Then she makes the mistake of smirking.
“He’s hot, Ophelia. It's not my fault your boyfriend got his ass beat by him.”
Wrong answer, bitch.
I grab her by the hair instantly and slam her face into the mirror. Glass cracks loudly and the blonde screams, but I’m toofar gone now. Three years of grief. One month of heartbreak. A lifetime of rage shoved down my throat. It all explodes at once.
The brunette claws at my arms while I drag her to the floor and hit her.
Once. Twice.
Again.
“You don’t know him!” I scream through the tears. “You don’t get to talk about him!”
Blood smears across her lip while girls start shrieking outside the bathroom doors.
Someone yells for security.
The blonde tries pulling me off her friend.
Bad idea, honey.
I shove her so hard she crashes into a stall door then I'm back on the brunette again. My fists ache as my breathing turns ragged. Mascara burns down my cheeks while years of pain pour out of me like hot lava. “He was MINE!” I scream as the confession rips out of me.
Security finally bursts in and drags me off her while I thrash against their grip. The brunette sobs on the floor, clutching her bleeding nose, while students crowd the doorway staring at me like I’m insane.
Maybe I am.
Because somewhere along the way, grief turned feral inside me.
By noon… I’m suspended for ten days.
Ten fucking days.
Of course they called my father and he came into the school throwing his power around, and now… the drive home is silent—deadly. I know I’m in for it, but fuck it.
It was worth it.
I stare blankly out the passenger window while dried blood stains my knuckles as my father sits beside me radiatingdisappointment so thick it suffocates the entire car. He doesn’t speak until we pull into the driveway.
Then his voice slices through the silence coldly.
