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“He’s my friend,” I say with gritted teeth. “I didn’t let him do anything. He was being nice. And you’re one to talk. You couldn’t stop flirting with Leslie this morning. You didn’t even touch your freaking custard.”
Ugh.
I can hear myself being all peevish and childish but I can’t stop myself. I can’t stop this jealousy.
Another step closer and we’re practically nose to nose. Or more like my face to his chest since he’s so much taller than me.
“I want you to do something for me,” he rasps.
“I’m sorry?”
“I want you to run.”
Something in his tone, in the mean lines of his face makes me swallow. “W-what?”
“I want you to turn around and run. As fast as you can.” He pauses to pull in another breath. “The way I’m feeling right now. The way I’m twisted up. I don’t…”
There’s hardly any space between us but still, I move closer to him. I’ve never seen him like this. All agitated and riddled with angst. Every breath, every word that comes out of his mouth is so tortured, so laden with harrowing things that all the instincts I possess make me want to comfort him.
Take away his pain, even though he’s hurting me too.
“You don’t what?”
Zach’s eyes are swirling with a predatory glint. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Oh, Jesus Christ.
I can’t even say, you won’t hurt me. Because I know he can. Not physically, no. Emotionally, yes.
He can hurt me. He did hurt me this morning.
As I watch him now, I realize how capable he is of destroying me. And I’m not talking about bullying or the past.
I’m talking about right now.
I’m talking about the way I feel for him. The way I disregard the rules of my job, the way he makes me proud when he reads, the way my heart swells when he’s with Art, the way he makes my skin sing when he touches it.
Maybe what I’m feeling isn’t childish at all.
Maybe it’s the most profound emotion we as humans, can feel.
God, when did he become this powerful and when did I become so powerless?
“I –”
“Run,” he growls, this time louder.
And I don’t even stop to think about it. I do as he says: I run.
I take off into the woods. I run as fast as I can.
I’m not running from my bully. I’m running because he hasn’t been my bully for a long time now. He’s something else to me now.
Something more.
The light of the moon’s beating down at me through the leafy branches of the trees. For some reason, even the stars are brighter.
The leaves are crunching under my boots. That’s the only sound, except for the sound of my breathing. But then, another sound joins in.
