My room is empty when I walk through the door. Shelby is gone again and when the realization I am alone hits me, I break. I crumble to the floor like a rag doll, covering my face with my hands as I let it all out.
All I wanted was to escape but it seems I’ve traded one prison for another, the only difference is this time my heart is paying the price.
???
The next day goes just as badly, maybe even worse. I can’t go anywhere without people looking at me like I’m a piece of shit. Sneers, laughter, and shitty remarks follow me wherever I go. Ignoring my surroundings is getting harder and harder to do.
I try to keep my head down and in one of my books, but my mind keeps wandering to the Bishops. I can’t get over the way they looked at me. I’m so angry at them, for refusing to let me talk, for further embarrassing me in front of everyone, but I’m hurt at the same time. My heart a bleeding mess because for some reason I thought maybe they cared, that maybe they loved me.
Stupid, so stupid.
This all could’ve been avoided if they would’ve they just let me explain.
As I’m walking to my next class across the west side of campus, I notice two guys walking in my direction. Even though my gaze is on the ground I can still see two dimpled grins forming on their lips and I just know they are going to make a comment about me when they pass. Everyone else has, so I don’t expect them to be any different.
Grabbing on to the strap of my backpack, I mentally prepare myself for the verbal assault that’s to come, but as they pass neither says so much as one word. And it’s then that I learn there are far worse things that can be done then spouting nonsense.
Instead one of them does something worse, he grabs my ass. The jerk grabs my ass, his meaty fingers sinking firmly into the fabric of my jeans. Then he squeezes, hard.
Yelping, I whirl around, my fists clenched, and nostrils flaring, “What the hell is wrong with you?” I grit out through my teeth.
“What? Not kinky enough for you? You need something better?” He grabs onto his junk and shakes it a little bit before releasing a chuckle into the air.
He moves away, following his friend who is a couple steps ahead, also smiling and laughing. Assholes. They’re both lucky they walked away. I would’ve kicked their asses if I had to.
It’s not until I make it to the classroom that I realize I’m shaking. I’m not sure if it’s from anger alone or if I’m a little shook up from that guy grabbing me. My emotions are so out of control it’s hard to pinpoint their origin.
Sinking down into the chair, I start to unpack my books and notepad. This is the class I normally have with Banks, but I don’t expect him to show up. That’s why I’m shocked when I look up and see him walking into the room.
Like magnets drawn to each other, his eyes find mine immediately. For the shortest moment I think he is happy to see me, a smile ghosting his lips, then as if he remembers where we are, his face turns to stone. With a mask carefully placed over his features, he walks in and takes a seat two rows in front of me. My heart starts to beat wildly, my throat tightening, and my chest aching.
Seeing him is torture, especially right now when all I want to do is run up to him and bury my face in his chest and inhale his sweet scent. I feel weak for needing him and it feels so wrong that I still want him like I do.
Taking a deep breath, I try to shake the unwanted thought away. Just when I get my heart rate back under control, and my chest stops heaving, someone else walks in. Tiffany. Shit, I forgot she was in this class too. Guess I should think about who I share classes with before I decide to throw down with them.
She lifts up her nose and struts through the room like it’s her own personal runway, and I hope someone would put a foot out so I can watch her tumble to the ground. Naturally she takes the seat beside Banks, who of course puts his arm across the back of the chair. Exhaling I grit my teeth together.
I tell myself it doesn’t matter, she doesn’t, he doesn’t, but that would be so much easier if I could actually believe what I’m telling myself. Peering at me over her shoulder, she gives me a smug smile, like she won something, and I can’t help but appreciate the way her smile is a bit uneven. She might have been able to cover up the blue and black skin with makeup, but she can’t cover up that her cheek is still swollen from where I punched her. I had expected to get into some kind of trouble, but it never happened.