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It sure seems to work on me.
All those sharp, wicked words are cracking me wide open, making me feel worthless. How many times have they broken into my locker and torn my books and notebooks to pieces? How many times have they written on my locker and on the walls insulting me? I hide my scraped knees and elbows from my dad. I’m sick and tired of picking myself up from the floor time and again, or swallowing back tears.
Of seeing Ross smile as I suffer.
He’s more vicious than ever, always coming at me when I arrive at school or walk down Main Street. He still hasn’t touched me, not once, but his words cut like blades. He hates me, and it’s slowly sinking in that it wasn’t attraction what I saw in his eyes: it was the interest of a predator seeing his favorite prey. His words are a true reflection of his feelings: he thinks I’m ugly, and he wants to see me hurt. It pleases him.
He’s a monster.
He has no reason to be that way. Sure, his mother walked away like mine did—but I didn’t bully people to feel better, like he does. His dad is rich, owner of Jasper’s Garage, the biggest workshop in the area. The man’s intimidating. I wonder if he approves of his son’s behavior. But I don’t really care.
Point is, Ross has it all. He has no excuses for being who he is. He makes his own choices. It’s his choice to torment others, and what his dad does or doesn’t approve shouldn’t make a difference. Ross is seventeen. Almost a grown-up.
Beautiful and cruel like some fae prince from the books I like to read, who for some reason picked me as his favorite chew toy.
And I can’t take it anymore...
***
“You want to leave?” Dad is frowning at the far wall, not even looking at me, as if the sight of me like now hurts him. “And go where?”
Hey, looks like I can hurt others, too. The privilege doesn’t belong to Ross alone. But it gives me no pleasure at all. I guess I just can’t understand him.
“It will be just for a short while,” I whisper.
“How long?”
I shrug. “Just to finish the school year.”
Or longer. Until Ross finishes school and hopefully moves away. Though why he’d leave, I don’t know. One can still hope, right? But I don’t say all that, because the pain in Dad’s voice is bad enough as it is.
“Luna...”
“I can stay with Aunt Emily. She already said she would love to have me.”
“You talked to her already?”
I wince. “Yes. I asked her if she’d let me stay with her. Theoretically.”
“Theoretically.” Dad’s voice has turned so sharp it cuts like glass. “You asked her. Before talking to me.”
“I had to know if there was any chance... any chance I could do this.”
Dad is quiet for a bit. Then he says, “What about Josh?”
“What about him? He’ll be fine.”
“He’ll miss you. Hell, I’ll miss you.”
I swallow past a lump in my throat. “I won’t be all that far away. I’ll come visit.”
“First your mom leaves us,” Dad whispers, “and now you.”
“That’s not fair. You can’t blame me for mom.”
“No, honey, of course not. I’m sorry.” Dad sighs. “That’s not what I meant.”
I know. Deep inside I know. He’s only upset, and sad. I don’t want to leave him either, or Josh. The problem is, I can’t stay here anymore. Not with Ross around. I can’t breathe anymore. I can’t function. I can’t live.
