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“What the hell is wrong with you?” I asked, taking a couple of steps to the side hoping to maybe to get around him. The fountain I’d used to fill my bottle was relatively secluded around the side of one of the buildings. He certainly wouldn’t have been able to see me there, he must have followed me.
“You know, originally, it was that shy, conservative girl act that you had going that pulled me in,” Nick continued, ignoring my plea for him to stop. “I found that kind of sexy. And my mom always said I needed a girl who would pamper and idolize me. Look to me to be the man.”
“Your mom is fucking crazy,” I countered, barely getting the words out before I found myself slammed back against the brick wall.
The air whooshed out of my lungs and struggled to fill them again.
“You don’t get to talk shit about her. You’ve already done enough damage to my family’s reputation trying to make us look bad.”
“You were the one who treated me like shit,” I argued, my voice raspy, and my body shaking with both annoyance and fear. There was no one around to back me up if he came at me, this was all me, and I was going to have to fight to stand my ground. I was sick of letting him win and have control—over my mind, over my body—he couldn’t hurt me anymore. I refused to let him. I refused to back up or run away from him. “You don’t really want to do this again, do you?” I threw back standing straight and staring up at him like I wasn’t afraid to take him on.
He stared right back at me, his head tilted slightly to the side as if he was considering what his next move should be. There was a calculating look in his eyes, and I was starting to wonder whether he was as stupid as I thought he was. I assumed this was all some juvenile game he played using me as the piece to move on the board.
I figured once I’d fought back, he’d get bored, or scared, and move on to someone a little weaker, someone who would cower like I’d spent the last year doing. But instead, it was as if the harder I fought back, the more determined he was to get to me—like it was one big challenge.
His fists clenched at his side, and I was almost sure I saw the muscles tense like a ripple effect up his arm. And for a moment, I wondered how I would protect myself. It was that one moment you knew things could go wrong, and if they did, you needed to know how you could minimize the damage. Like when you hit a stone while you’re riding your bike, or when you walk over an icy footpath.
Your heart stops.
You see what’s happening.
You know it’s possibly going to hurt.
“Meyah? You okay?”
And then you manage to steady the bike or catch your footing.
Turning my head to the side, I was surprised to find six or seven of Nick’s football teammates standing there, watching us, with Trent standing at the front. His eyes were focused on Nick, who had yet to move or possibly even blink.
“Come on, we’re all going into town to get lunch.”
I cleared my throat. “Coming.” I gripped the water bottle as tightly in my hand as humanly possible in the event I needed a weapon.
It was like the dark clouds in Nick’s eyes that threatened destruction and fury were instantly blown away by a cool breeze and replaced by a calm sky, birds fucking tweeting and all. “We were just chatting, right, Meyah?” he pushed, but I didn’t reply as I slipped away from him. He finally removed his body from my personal bubble and grinned. “I’ll see you around.”
I shuddered, taking one step after another toward Trent and the boys. “I hope not.”
