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“I—”
“I warned you,” he snaps at Carter. “I told you she’d chew you up and spit you out. I just didn’t imagine I’d fall for it too.”
“You’re being unfair,” Carter says, trying to calm his friend. “We all did this together. We all knew where we stood.”
“And now you’re defending her so she chooses you. Smart.” His lips twist with a sneer and he spits at me over his shoulder as he walks away, “You can have her, Carter. You win. I’m out. Plenty more to stick my dick into.”
“Fuck you, Myers,” I yell and charge after him. “What do you want me to do here? I’m making the only decision I can!”
“Love me more than him.”
“If it were only that simple.”
He looks at me and then at Carter. “You have everything. Let me have something.”
“You promised no fallout,” I hiss at him, cupping his face with my hands. “You promised we’d be okay.”
“Well, maybe I just need a fucking second here,” he snaps, pushing me away, and then he punches the door so hard he leaves behind a shiny residue that I know is blood.
“Calm down,” Carter pleads, “come on, man. You’re scaring her.”
“I’m not scared, he’d never hurt me,” I say with a frown and Presley’s shoulders slump. “Look, we can’t keep going as a three, and I can’t choose. This is unfortunately how it is. I’m sorry, but I’m not changing my mind.”
Presley walks out leaving Carter and me alone. Carter doesn’t meet my eyes, nor does he turn my way.
“You promised,” I whisper.
“Yeah, well, maybe I need time too.” He also walks to the door, breathing heavy.
“Carter, please.”
“You couldn’t just pick one, could you?”
I blow out a breath. “I love you both. I enjoy you both. I need you both.”
“And now we’re both gone.”
“You’re really not going to talk to me?” I ask them as we practice our routine, though they haven’t said anything at all, except move names and each other’s names.
I dance with them but it’s stiff and Hammond gets testy. It’s not my fault they aren’t performing properly.
When it’s the end of class and they are still completely ignoring me, I decide I should probably get angry. But instead I opt for honesty.
“You guys are really hurting me right now.” Then, without looking for their reactions, I pick up my bag and leave.
Night comes and Presley visits but again he completely blanks me. He was the same at lunch when I approached, he was the same after school when we danced with Michael. Carter blanked me too, though he avoided me mostly, likely so he wouldn’t have to deal with blanking me. I am being stonewalled and it feels so unfair.
It’s more of the same for the rest of the week. Though we nail our routines, there’s no passion there anymore and by Friday I feel physically drained.
Everybody is noticing it too. Stanley mentioned it this morning, Lane mentioned it last night. They were my friends and we had fun together, Carter taught me how to ride a bike for fuck’s sake. It’s not fair. I can’t help how I feel, and now that I don’t have them, I feel empty. Like a huge part of me is missing, the part that makes me happy.
It’s stupid, they’re just boys… they shouldn’t be anything.
“Hey.” Michael approaches as our afternoon session ends. “Are you okay? You look a little down.”
“I’m fine,” I lie because I am so far from fine my fine is sitting on the sun out of reach and is mocking me.
“You and the guys fall out?”
I shrug. “It’s nothing.”
“Well, if you need an ear.”
Smiling softly, I thank him and duck my head as I pass Carter and Presley whose eyes are on Michael. They look livid. They have no right to look livid.
Or maybe they do. I was theirs first. I decided I didn’t want either of them.
Well, actually that’s not true either. I didn’t decide that I didn’t want either of them, I decided I wanted them both too much to pick one.
As I’m leaving school to get my bike from lockup, that reporter journalist cunt bitch approaches me again with her hands raised.
“Go away,” I say to her, leaning down to unlatch the lock from my wheel and frame. It swings loose and knocks against my shin. Ouch.
“Please, just hear me out.”
“Do you have any idea what my uncle will do to me if he even hears you’ve been near me? Any idea what he’ll do to you?”
She nods. “I do. That’s why I’m here. He needs to be stopped.”
“There is no stopping him.”
“We both know that’s not true.”
I look her dead in the eye. “Fuck-off Magazine or whatever the fuck your name is. I’m not interested.”
“It’s Mackenzie.”
I wheel my bike past her.
“Tell me about the panty box.”
I drop my bike, turn, grab her throat and slam her up against the iron bars of the lockup.
