“No,” I hiss. “You don’t. Because I’m notgoing throughanything. And why the fuck is she here?” I gesture to Kavita. “You wanted to humiliate me in public, too?”
“No!” Carly reaches out for my hand, but I pull it away. “That’s not it. Kavita is—that is, she?—”
“I volunteer at Dyschord’s Women’s Support Center,” Kavita says, a lot quieter. “Carly thought you might need to talk to somebody.”
Women’s Support Center.
Like I need help.
Like I’m avictim.
“Fuck you,” I hiss at Carly. “I don’t need a fucking crisis hotline.”
Hurt her.
Cut her up.
Shut her up.
Make her pay.
No. No. I inhale quickly and remind myself that Carly’s mouth wouldn’t look better stitched up so she can’t fucking gossip about me anymore.
“That’s fine,” Kavita says quickly. “But let me give you the information anyway. Just in case.”
“Just in case what? Another person decides to pour piss all over me?” I bark out a laugh. “In case more guys get kinks for bottles?”
“Pandora!” Carly gets up and reaches for me. Her fingers are needles on my shoulder. “Please, calm down.”
I slap her hand away and give her a wide smile. “I am calm. You’re the one getting hysterical over nothing.”
Why does she look so sad now? Why is Kavita looking at me with those eyes, the same fucking pity that Professor Richter gave me, like there’s a broken toy they want to fix up when it’s really better to throw the old shit away and buy a new one.
“It’s clearly bothering you,” Carly says. “And hanging out with Blaze and Asch—and River—isn’t helping you. They’re the ones who did this to you. You don’t have to keep doing what they want.”
I burst into laughter. “Oh, Carly. They aren’t making me do anything.” I get up and grab my bag. “Iwantto fuck them. They’re the only ones who understand me. The only ones who care.”
“If they cared, they wouldn’t have done what they did,” Kavita says gently.
Patronizingly.
Fuck her and the stupid white horse she rode in on.
My hand shakes.
The fork is right there.
I could take out an eye.
“They didn’t do anything,” I say, but this time my tongue gets cut up, every word more painful than the last. “Anyway, fuck both of you.”
I rush off.
I hear whispering around me.
I made a scene.
That’s fine. I like scenes. I like having all the attention.
