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TWO
Never let anyone have power over her?
Kayla should thank her lucky stars I restrained the beast when she bumped into me.
That’s a first. Others haven’t been so fortunate.
But there’s something about that girl.
Her last words in the garden are still fresh on my mind as I drive through the gates the following morning.
She’s so confident in herself, as opposed to me.
It’s been four years, yet that monster continues to have free reign in my head, preventing any connection due to fear.
“Irene just texted a photo of Christian’s face,” Britney informs, dragging me back to the present.
I wipe Kayla’s unsettling brown eyes from my mind. “You can thank Eric for that. I controlled myself so as not to do any serious damage.”
“I told you to leave it alone.” She draws air through her teeth before adding, “Christian and I weren’t serious.”
“Bullshit. Why were you crying in the bathroom yesterday morning?”
“It wasn’t because of him.” She steers her eyes to the window, watching the students as she utters in a blasé tone, “They posted it on social media. Christian is embarrassed.”
“He’s a wimp. A girl intervened to save his ass, and he bolted.”
Britney snaps her head to me in surprise, asking, “What girl?”
“Kayla McNeil. The one on Dad’s scholarship.”
“Oh,” she drawls, a sly smile coiling her lips.
In a stern voice, I tell her, “Whatever idea you just got, quickly forget it.”
We file out of the car, and Britney waits for me to come around the hood. “You know, it’s nice that someone here isn’t afraid of you.”
I huff at her remarks. “I’m not responsible for that.”
“No?” She arches her brows; expression masked with sarcasm.
“Whatever,” I grunt, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “If they stay away from me and don’t play with you, no one gets hurt.”
“Ugh.” She eyeballs me. “Anyway.”
A silver Honda that’s a few years old pulls up across from us while Britney’s whining about her upcoming ballet recital. The man behind the wheel has medium brown skin like Kayla.
Speaking of.
Kayla hops out the passenger side, beaming as she waves goodbye. “See you later, Dad.”
My stomach tightens.
Why is she so damn happy? Like her world is constructed with sunshine and rainbows.
Her existence is a skittles commercial.
I bet no one ever ripped joy from her heart, rendering it hard to experience it again. I almost want to steal some, dismantle the darkness within me once and for all.
