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If someone hurts me, it’s okay to freaking cry by myself, and to be scared, and to hide.
So yeah, I didn’t ask either Soren or Felix to come with me because they were in the line for photos and were making this big statement about being together andfuck everyone. I came in on my own, and I was almost finished and back out, but as I headed to the sink to wash my hands, the door opened and shut, and the air inside the small space grew cramped with a prickling awareness. My chest tightened, and my shoulders hunched instinctively, and I hated that fear made me turn to check who it was.
I wish I hadn’t faced the new arrival. It would have been better not to have known.
“The girls’ bathroom is next door,” MilesassholeBrooks sneered, his eyes glassy as the scent of beer hit my nose. Just him then—drunk, with his snarls and hatred of all things that weren’this type—and no sign of backup, which made the situation scarier. I wished that Jonah was with him, and I never thought I’d say that, but at least when Jonah was around, Miles stuck to words, and not actions.
And Jonahhadgiven me the Snickers bar.
Andhe’d apologized.
I stared down at the sink, hiding my face behind the fall of my pale pink bangs—going turtle was my default position when faced with Miles, who was twice my size and a hundred times nastier than anyone else in this school. I’d learned that lesson early on—don’t poke the bear.
“All alone?” he asked.
I refused to answer. Instead, I let icy cold water rush over my wrist, dampening the rainbow band telling anyone who didn’t already realize that I was an ally, gay, or both, at any given time. When I’d gotten dressed for tonight, I’d felt beautiful when I added my armor—the pink hair, eyeliner, and the shiny lip gloss I wore, not to mention the flowing purple shirt and the ripped pants. I was a walking advertisement for the rainbow spectrum, always fighting to show the part of me that my father had demanded I hide.
I’d fought so hard it had nearly cost Mom everything.
My silence spoke volumes, and Miles probably thought it was fear, but he was only half right. The other half of my silence was self-preservation, and that was the part of this he hated. He wanted me to cry, or shout, or run—it was as if he needed me to do that. I refused.
“Hey, freak, I’m talking to you.”
He hadn’t moved closer, if anything he was keeping his distance, but I soon saw why when someone pushed at the door behind him, and he stopped it opening with a well-placed boot, becoming a barrier all by himself. He might not be near me, but it was just the two of us in here, and I was as trapped as if he’d gripped my arm and shoved me into the sink. I could almost taste the pain and the fear.
I won’t panic.
“The door’s jammed up!”
“Open the door!” someone yelled.
“Fuck off!” Miles shouted back with a snarl, and there was a clatter and muttering from outside.
“Someone get a chaperone!” whoever it was added, and then, there was no more banging or demands to be let in. Whoever it was had given up, left, not for one minute imagining I was in here with my nemesis, or at least one of them. At least they’d mentioned getting a chaperone to the door. Maybe I should have brought one of them with me to the bathroom. Maybe Soren’s dads, big bad former hockey D-Man Jared, or maybe smooth-as-silk phenom Ten, both able to hip check men twice their size.
They’d be able to intimidate Miles into backing off, which would just delay the pain for later, but hell, I could deal with later over getting my head shoved into a toilet now.
“A chaperone will be here—”
“You’re gonna pay for what you did!” Miles snarled and slammed a hand on the door.
I jumped, and he laughed, and the sound was that of evil spilling out of him, and I washed my hands, pretending I wasn’t entirely aware of where Miles was standing.
I was over feeling as if something had been stolen from me, and tears bubbled below the surface and made my throat tight. Why would anyone want to ruin the dance for me? What had I ever done to deserve any of this apart from being different?
“Leave me alone.” I tipped my chin, going for confidence—and I was an expert in masking, but that didn’t mean my emotions weren’t knotted and tight.
“You scared, girly?”
“Is that the very best slur you can come up with?” I asked before I could stop myself, and I saw his muscles tense, the tic in his jaw, the way his eyes narrowed. Shit. I don’t know what drove me to keep talking, but words spilled out of me in a rush, because words were a barrier that stopped people in their tracks. “It’s kind of old now, right? I color my hair; therefore, I must be a girl.”
“Youarea girl,” he said and laughed again.
I bristled. “You think calling me that is a slur? My mom is way harder and stronger than you, so it’s not the insult you think it is.”
“Yeah, right,” he snarled, but then seemed confused.
I needed him to move away from the door, so maybe I could get around him. “About what I expected; you’re not exactly a creative thinker.”
