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And turns out that there was a reason for it.
After Lucas and I broke up, Brad was the first of many guys to proposition me. He was the first person to tell me that he wanted me to be his girlfriend. When I refused, he became the first person to leave nasty notes in my locker, calling me names and generally harassing me for rejecting him.
Andfor being a slut and kissing my boyfriend’s best friend.
I wasn’t exaggerating when I said those last few weeks at my old school had been hell. And I definitely wasn’t exaggerating when I wore that hoodie last night.
God, of all the people to recognize me, ithadto be Brad.
“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you,” I say, trying to step back.
He doesn’t let me though, keeping his hold intact. “Echo Adler. Long time, no see.” Smiling, he looks me up and down. “How the heck are you?”
His smile is slimy and creepy and all the things that make me want to run away.
And again, I try to escape but he doesn’t let me go. “I’m fine, as I said. May I just have my arm back, please?”
“Still very polite. I like it.”
“I’m —”
“Although, you don’t have to be.” He drops his voice lower. “We all know you aren’t the good girl you make yourself out to be.”
I flinch at his taunt.
It’s not the first of its kind I’ve gotten.
But it still stings, and fisting my fingers, I lean back. “Look, I was just leaving, okay? Can I just have my arm back so I can do that?”
He chuckles, his eyes amused but the bad kind, the mean kind. “But you just got here.”
“I’m —”
Cocking his head to the side, he cuts me off. “You’re a little butt-hurt. I understand that. I saw what happened. How your boy left you high and dry just now. But listen,” he twists my arm slightly, asserting his dominance as he leans in even more, “it doesn’t have to be this way. How about I make you feel better, huh? You and me.”
“I don’t want to feel better. All I want is for you to let me go.”
“Come on,” he cajoles. “You know I’ve always liked you. I bared my heart to you back then but you shot me down. I can overlook that though. Maybe you were still heartbroken about the whole thing. But it’s been two years now. This could be our chance. This could be —”
“No,” I say, glaring at him. “We will never have a chance. I don’t want a chance with you, with someone who haspropositionedme. So I want you to —”
Let me go.
That’s what I was going to say and maybe push him away too, if that time he hadn’t listened to me.
As it is, I don’t think I need to.
Because Brad has already let me go,beforeI could even finish my sentence, and is now in the process of being pushed back. Or ratherpulledback by the neck of his t-shirt, his eyes wide and shocked.
As much as mine.
And it doesn’t stop, this pulling.
Until Brad is well and truly away from me, and shoved back into a tree off to the side.
Really hard.
It’s all accomplished within a few seconds: Brad letting me go and being shoved and restrained to an almost secluded corner.
