Would I even be able to get a word in edgewise? Would my genuine pain even be heard in this environment, at this time?
I drop my face into my hands as a lump clings to my throat. I can’t do that. I already won’t have friends when this ends; I can’t make things that much worse for myself. I’m not like Beck, someone who doesn’t give a shit what others think. I’m not strong enough to make a scene, even if it’s justified.
I raise my head, self-loathing burning in my cheeks far hotter than the anger that got me here. Am I really going to just go home after all this?
I wanted them to hurt.
My gaze moves to Paisley’s car and suddenly the pain falls away.
I throw on my hoodie and grab the crowbar my dad makes me keep in the trunk of my car. It’s part of some tool kit he put together in case I need to change a tire.
I run up to Paisley’s Audi and raise the crowbar like a baseball bat. It’s heavy, but with as much energy as I have to burn, it swings with ease as I aim for the front left tire.
The sharp ends sink into the tire’s rubber with a gasp of air.
I yank the crowbar out and hit it again.
I slam it into the tire another two times.
As the air escapes the tire, my muscles ache, but god did that feel amazing.
I eye the campsite I was going to reserve. I wait for movement, ready to run to my car and leave.
But no one comes out. I massage the skin over my heart.
It won’t hurt them. It’ll scare them, a prank that’ll be no more than an inconvenience when they come back exhausted on Sunday and have to wait for roadside assistance to help them. They’ll bicker; they’ll realize how miserable a time they had. They’ll feel an ounce of suffering as I detach myself from this horrible fucking friend group.
A breeze rushes past me, making me shiver in my thin hoodie. I wonder if everyone’s already in their tents by now, cursing that they didn’t bring the right sleeping bags or pads to allow for a decent night’s sleep. Good. I hope it’s the worst sleep of their lives.
“Hey Paisley, why don’t you come out here and face me?” I say, feeling out of body and out of mind. Like I’m reading from a movie script someone handed me. I’m not speaking loud enough for anyone to hear me from the campgrounds and it only emboldens me. “I cameafter all. So funny, it seems you forgot to invite me. And what a trip to do it on, too! As if you can survive in the woods without me.” I pause. “I don’t have to keep taking this shit. I won’t. As of right now, I’m done. You messed with the wrong fucking person. You’re all going to regret this. I can destroy you if I really wanted to.” I raise the crowbar. “Maybe I’ll wreck your car, and when you come out, you can feel some real pain for the first time in your life.”
I stop talking and breathe deeply for the first time in a long, long time.
I can’t believe how good it feels to say all that out loud. Maybe this was worthwhile after all.
But when I look up, I’m not alone.
There’s a woman off on the opposite end of the parking lot, closer to the darkened ranger station. My heart leaps to my throat. Did she see me puncturing Paisley’s tire? Did she hear what I said? My instinct is to call out, but I can’t form the words in my throat.
She stares at me but doesn’t speak.
Heat flushes down my neck.
It’s the ranger, and I’m not allowed to be in this parking lot without being registered.
There will be nothing more embarrassing than the school finding out I got arrested after not being invited to this fucking camping trip.
I jump back into my car and turn on the engine with shaking fingers. My music blasts on. I reverse and realize I have to drive right by her to leave. Whatever. It’s fine. I give the biggest exhale right before I reach her along the road out.
She’s got long hair that whips in the wind and is wearing a dark coat and boots. I crack my window.
“Sorry, I’m leaving!” I say.
She doesn’t say anything.
I should just keep going. I should drive faster, not let her see more of my face. Maybe she’s too tired to care.
But I give her one last look.
