“I’m just going through some stuff right now,” I said, lowering my voice so only he could hear.
“Yeah… well, I think this stuff you are going through is what we need to talk about.”
I tilted my head trying to read him. What was he talking about?
“You’ve been acting more distant than normal. Off. Every time I go by your house, you aren’t there, which is also odd since I’m the only person in this town you really know. So, I hid outside your house Friday as I saw cops leave. I then saw you leave, and I saw who you were with. I also saw him grab and hold your hand.”
I froze, knowing what he would say next.
“Are you fucking Mr. D?” He asked the question in a low voice, leaning in as close as he could to me without actually touching.
I didn’t want to lie to Kevin. Especially since I was just called out on the ultimate lie and was still reeling from it. But I sure as hell didn’t want to tell him the truth either.
And it wasn’t like I would ever be able to fuck Mr. D again.
Not now.
Not ever.
I gave a small laugh, realizing it sounded fake the minute I did it. “Have you lost your mind?”
Kevin didn’t even flinch. “No, but I’m worried you have. Again.” He placed his hand on my upper arm. “This is why you left L.A. To get away from… that.”
“This isn’t like L.A.,” I said.
“Really? Because it sure looks like it is. Mr. D? Out of everyone, you choose the principal?”
I couldn’t stand there and have this conversation any longer. My knees threatened to buckle, and the voices were whispering in my head.
“I can’t talk about this right now.”
“You need help, Corrine. I gave you the benefit of the doubt in L.A. I stood by you, shrugged off all the awful rumors, and tried to understand why you were into Mr. Harrison, but now Mr. D. This is fucked up, girl. Totally fucked. This isn’t you. I know you, and I know you’re spiraling. We need to get you on meds or something.”
“Don’t pretend to know me,” I hissed, wanting to hold my ears so the voices would stop chanting that the doors in the hallways were open. All the doors were open.
Why wouldn’t anyone close a fucking door?
“I do know you. I know why you do this. I see you. Call it Daddy issues, call it attention seeking, obsessive behavior—”
“Or just call it a girl looking for love,” I said between clenched teeth. “Why does it have to be a mental thing? Why are my feelings wrong? Why does it make me sick in the head? Huh? Answer me that fucking question. Am I not entitled to find love without pills being pushed in my direction?”
“You call this love? He’s the principal! The last guy you were into was a teacher! This isn’t normal, Corrine. I know you agree with me at least deep down.”
“Why does age matter? Maybe I don’t want to fuck inexperienced little boys,” I snapped.
He reached for my hand, but I pulled it away harshly.
“Corrine,” he said calmly as if he were trying to soothe a rabid dog. “I’m your friend. Let me help you.”
“I don’t need help. I need people to understand me.”
“I do. I’m like you. I get it. I know what it’s like growing up with no parents to love you. I know what it feels like to be alone. I get you whether you want to admit that or not. But I also know that you can’t repeat what happened with Mr. Harrison.”
“Stop saying his name,” I nearly growled. “I know I fucked that all up. I know I lost it. Okay? I know. But that’s not what this is.”
“Really? Because it sure looks like it to me. Are you telling me that you and Mr. D fell in love like two star-struck lovers? Or are you going to admit that you hunted his ass from the depths of your fucked up mind just like you did with Mr. Harrison?”
“I told you to stop saying his name.” I held my hands to my ears, but the voices only got louder.
And louder.
And even louder.
“You’re going to take Mr. D down that black rabbit hole with you,” he said.
“Don’t worry,” I said with a tilted grin. “He jumped out.”
I turned on my heels and headed out of the school.
“Corrine!” he called out.
“I’m leaving,” I yelled over my shoulder.
And I was.
Mr. D wanted me out of Black Mountain, and it was the least I could do.
I would ignore the voices that told me to sit in my car and watch him from a distance.
I would not be that girl.
I would not obsess.
I would not watch.
I would not wait.
I would not stalk.
I would prove them all wrong. I wasn’t crazy. I wasn’t crazy. I wasn’t crazy.