Yeah, well, I no longer want to be wanted by you. I’m putting myself first, finally.
I toss my phone back onto the vanity and place my hands on the side of the cool marble countertop, dropping my head in exhaustion. I can’t help but be flooded with flashes of memories, memories of my father’s abuse, memories of the first time Eli put his hands on me, memories of everyone who failed me to end up here.Is it actually me? I mean, I’m the common denominator in all of this? Am I the one failing myself? Am I the real villain here?
All I can do is shove down the thoughts, lock them away, and keep moving. Life doesn’t care. It doesn’t wait for me to feel better, even after it’s done everything to break me, it keeps going and just expects me to keep up.
I grab a breakfast bar on the way out of the house, knowing it will probably be one of the only things I can keep down today. I try to force myself to eat most days, knowing that when I don’t, my body reminds me how much I don’t take care of it. The anxiety gets louder and more physical, the stress headaches get worse, and it’s almost impossible to focus in school. All things I’ve gotten used to pushing through.
From the time I parked in the student parking lot to when I walked in, everything felt more off than normal. The school hallway felt suffocating, and the eyes of everyone burning into me felt like tiny pinpricks. I feel their stares clawing along my spine, their whispers making my skin crawl. As I walk up to my locker, I notice a folded-up paper slipped halfway inside. I tug it out with shaky fingers, already knowing it won’t be good, and honestly, wanting to just throw it away. But the part of me I hate mostneedsto know what it says. Everyone is watching, so I try not to let my emotions show, not wanting to feed into this sick obsession they have to tear people down and watch them crumble for sport.
Aren’t their lives perfect enough? Why do they need to ruin mine? What do they get out of it?
I open it.
“Eli deserved better. You deserve nothing freak.”
My heart starts to pound painfully as soon as I read it. I crumble the note up, forcing myself to breathe. A group of girls walk past, and I see Katie front and center. Her eyes catch mine, cold and malicious, her smirk viciously pleased. She leans closer to her friends, whispering. I keep watching as they walk away, too wrapped up in my thoughts to realize anyone approaching me until I jump at the contact of a hand on my shoulder. When I turn to see who it is, my heart sinks even more. Another girl—Alex—who has always made it very clear what she thinks about me since I’ve moved to this school.
She leans in and asks, “How does it feel knowing he chose her over you?”
I look at her in disbelief, but can’t respond. Everything inside me tells me to stand up for myself, fight back, tell everyone the truth, tell them how wrong they are about me, but I can’t. I don’t have the strength. I don’t even care enough anymore. I don’t think it would even make a difference. They didn’t like me before I started dating the devil in disguise; why would that change with anything I said?
Heat rushes up my neck, flooding my face, and tears prick painfully behind my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I can’t, not here, not now. I’m not giving them what they all want.
Grabbing my books, I slam my locker shut, only to see Harper walking up hesitantly, concern obvious in her expression. For a split second, an ounce of hope stirs, but I quickly shut it down.
“Lydia,” Harper starts gently, her voice low and concerned. “Are you—”
“Don’t,” I cut her off sharply, voice shaking despite trying to push the emotions back down. “I don’t want your fake concern.”
Harper’s shoulders slump, eyes falling away from mine. “Fine,” she murmurs.
I push past her, hurrying down the hall, but the whispers follow me. I don’t even think most of them are talking about me, but these people have fucked with my head so badly that it’s all I can feel and think about here.
In class, the seat beside mine stays empty. No one wants to sit next to the pariah. My phone vibrates, and I glance down to see notifications popping up rapidly.
New tags. New posts. New lies. All from bitches with shiny exteriors and rotted insides.
“Imagine cheating on someone like Eli. She’s insane.”
Literally, where are they getting this information from?
“Finally, everyone sees who Lydia really is—just a manipulative psycho.”
“You’d think she’d get the hint that she doesn’t belong here. Never has and definitely never with him.”
Then I see more texts still coming in randomly from Eli, saying the same guilt-tripping lines that no longer hold any weight to me. My throat tightens, stomach twisting. It’s suffocating, the way the room feels smaller, the air is harder to breathe in. My claustrophobia doesn’t make sense in this situation, but it still all feels the same. I tuck my phone in my backpack, trying to ignore everyone.
Going through class, Ifeellike I’m here…I’m staring at the board, staring at the teacher, staring at my papers…but I don’t take any of it in; I can’t. My brain feels like someone is watching a VHS tape over and over, and as soon as they make it to the end, they quickly rewind and keep forcing me to vividly relive it all.
Lunch period has always been hell for me. The only time when everyone gets to clique up and talk freely to each other, and I’m always the outcast on display. I keep my head low, sliding into a seat at an empty table in the corner. I haven’t really eaten anything all day, but my appetite is nonexistent anyway, so what does it matter? A few moments later, I feel someone bump into me and then feel the cool, wet liquid of spilled food down my shirt. I quickly stand up and see a girl pretending to be sorry while laughing through her fake apology. She just stands there and watches for my reaction or retaliation, but I refuse to give her either. I just run to the bathroom, cleaning myself off and hiding there until it’s allover.
I can’t stomach being here for the last period of school, so I make a beeline to my car after lunch, skipping the rest of the day. I just wanna go somewhere where nobody knows me, nobody judges me, nobody hates me, nobody hurts me. I turn my car on and just sit there, trying to focus on what’s outside of this place, outside of these people. I imagine what it’ll be like at this time next year. Will I be happy at college? Will I get to start over? Will I make any friends, or will I always be the outcast? Will Simone still go to A&M, or does she want to go somewhere else now that we aren’t friends? Does she really hate me?
I feel the tears start to fall at the thought of her. Thinking about how badly I made my words hurt her on purpose the last time we talked. How even when she reached out again after, I ignored her. I knew that as long as I was withhim, I couldn’t have her too. How stupid was I to let him ruin the one friendship I had with someone who genuinely and purely loved me and would have always been there if I hadn’t pushed her away?
I pull out of the school parking lot, not really knowing where I’m going, just knowing I need to go somewhere far away from here where I can breathe.
I pull into the Niven’s Landing parking lot and take my time walking down the trail to the beach area at Lake Wylie. Thankful when I see no one is here, and I can have a moment alone, I let out a relieved breath.
