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“Talk to me,” she instructs and moves to the mirror to check her purple lipstick. I have to admit the girl chooses a great lip color.
“I should never have gone with him,” I mutter, shaking my head as though I’m the stupid one. “He told me you’re a liar and that you came on to him.”
With a dramatic roll of my eyes I move to stand beside her and we look at each other in the mirror. She’s soft and pretty in a way I’m not. I’m gritty and real, and I have a dead silence to my eyes that creeps people out. Barbie is way more dangerous than me because people don’t expect evil from her. Whereas that shit emanates from me like a fever.
“What a dick,” she grumbles, but her eyes flicker to the left.
“He’s so charming.” Now I’m the liar. “He gave me this spiel about how I’m different and blah blah…” We both laugh, a gentle lilt in the empty bathroom. It bounces around the cubicles and lingers for a moment with our shared smiles. “Said you attacked him in his car.”
“Of course he said that. I’m a black belt. If I’d attacked him, he’d know about it.” She’s lying again.
Or maybe I’m wishful thinking so I don’t get my ass kicked?
Nah. She’s definitely lying.
But about what? Being a black belt or about everything she said about him?
“I heard he tossed you around in the back of his truck?”
“Kind of,” I place my bag on the water-splattered counter between the sinks. “Have you seen my face? I’m hideous.”
“Want me to kick him in his dick for you?”
I shake my head, letting her brown eyes hold mine when I turn and rest back against the counter. Taking a casual nonthreatening stance. “Nah. I want you to tell me the truth.”
She blanches, pulling her head in so her chin touches her neck. “The truth?”
“About what happened that night with Nok.”
“I told you what happened. You’ve witnessed firsthand his aggression; you know it’s true.”
I hum thoughtfully. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”
“Of course I am.”
“But you’re not though. Are you?”
Her lips part. She’s offended and gasping and spluttering for something to say. I love that I’ve trapped her.
My fingers tap against the counter side, curling over the soft, curved edge. It’s cold like my soul. “You wanted him, and he turned you down, didn’t he?”
Her jaw hits the floor. “Are you kidding me? How dare you?”
“I dare do a lot of things.”
The bathroom door opens and a girl I don’t recognized steps inside.
“Pick another bathroom,” I bark and her eyes round with surprise. She slowly backs away and I turn back to a panicked-looking Barbie.
“Why are you doing this? Why are you picking a fight?”
“Meh…” I shrug my shoulders. “Boredom probably.”
Her brown eyes narrow. “Boredom? Or is it because you like Nok?”
“Mixture of both I guess.”
I bring up my booted foot and kick her in the stomach before she even knows what’s happening. The trick to winning a fight is to always have the element of surprise. Fuck that “don’t hit first” bullshit. If you know they’re gunning for you, get your scope on them first and do not fucking hesitate.
She heaves and drops onto her hands and knees, looking about ready to vomit. “Thought you were a black belt?”
She wheezes, unable to talk or do much of anything really.
Saliva drips from her lips to the floor. I hit her really hard. I wonder if I broke a rib.
“Tell the truth,” I demand, putting my phone on the counter.
“I am,” she rasps, her voice a fraction of the tone that it was before.
I grab her hair and yank her up onto her knees.
“Stop,” she begs, and a thrill courses through me.
I love this feeling. I love this power.
Dragging her to the middle stall, ignoring her shrieks, I kick it open and show her the toilet. She very quickly goes quiet.
“I’m gonna dunk you and I don’t think it’s been flushed yet.” I peek over the basin and sure enough, there’s an oily sheen of yellow resting on the water surface.
I kick up the toilet seat, but it clatters back down, so I do it again but slowly this time, with more patience. “Last chance. Tell the truth.”
“Somebody is going to come in here and stop you.”
“I wouldn’t count on it.” Her hands claw at my wrist, her nails dig into the skin drawing blood, so I step on the back of her ankle until she screams in pain and sheathes her claws. And then I force her face into the toilet, stopping only an inch from the water. It is so much easier to manipulate a person’s body when you’re pressing against one of their most painful places. Her forehead is against the basin. So gross. “Tell the fucking truth!”
“I am!”
I step on her ankle harder and push her face closer, so close the tip of her nose is also touching the basin. My hand in her hair is starting to ache but the thrill of this torture overrides that feeling. She sobs uncontrollably.
