Bully(100)

“Thank you,” I said, looking up at him.

He pulled my hair out from under the collar and let his fingers linger as he stared at me. My skin erupted in chills but not from the cold. What was going on in my stomach right now?

We both looked away quickly, a little embarrassed.

I sat up and wiped my nose with the sleeve of my jacket.

Despite everything, I could see the light in one thing. At least I’d given my virginity to someone I loved. Even though we were done, I had loved him when I gave myself to him. What he took from me was honest and pure even if he thought it was all a joke.

“Tate.” A shaky voice whispered behind me, and I stopped breathing. Without even turning around, I knew who it was, and I tore blades of grass from the ground as my fists clenched.

I refused to turn around. And I’d be damned if I listened to any more bullshit from him.

“Haven’t you won, Jared? Why won’t you just leave me alone?” My voice was calm, but my body screamed for violence. I wanted to lash out. Hit him. Do anything that could hurt him.

“Tate, this is all so fucked up. I—” He started to spew his nonsense, but I cut him off.

“No! No more!” I whipped around to face him, unable to reason with myself. I said I wasn’t going to get into it with him, but I couldn’t help it. “Do you hear me? My life here is ruined. No one will let me live this down. You’ve won. Don’t you get it? You. Have. Won! Now leave me alone!”

His eyes widened, probably because I was screaming and madder than I’d ever been. When was it enough? Couldn’t he just be satisfied?

He gripped the hair on his head, looking like he stopped midway combing his hands through it. His chest rose and fell like he was nervous. “Just stop for a minute, okay?”

“I’ve listened to your stories. Your excuses.” And I walked away towards my truck, feeling my heart breaking. He was near, and my arms still hummed with the desire to hold him.

“I know,” he called out behind me. “My words aren’t good enough. I can’t explain any of this. I don’t know where that video came from!”

I knew he was following me, so I didn’t turn around. “It came from your phone, asshole! No, never mind. I’ve stopped talking to you.” I kept walking, feeling as if my legs weighed two tons.

“I called your dad!” he blurted out, and I halted.

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Of course you did,” I murmured, more to myself than him.

Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse. I thought that I’d have a few days to get my head straight before I had to deal with my dad. But the storm was going to descend sooner rather than later.

“Tate, I didn’t send that video to anyone. I didn’t even record a video of us.” He sounded desperate, but I still couldn’t turn to look at him.

He continued, “I haven’t seen my phone in two days. I left it upstairs at Tori’s party when we were listening to music. When I remembered later, I went back to get it, but it was gone. Don’t you remember?”

I recalled him saying something about misplacing his phone that night, but we were all dancing, and it was loud. I must’ve forgotten.

I sucked in my cheeks and shook my head. No. He wasn’t getting out of this. His phone was pointed at the bed that night, exactly the position it needed to be in to record a video.

“You’re a liar,” I retorted.

While I couldn’t see his face, I felt him approach, and I couldn’t move. Why couldn’t I just get out of here?

“I called your dad, because he was going to find out anyway. That goddamn, fucking video is out there, and I wanted him to hear it from me first. He’s coming home.”

My shoulders sunk. My dad would be home sometime tomorrow then. The thought both warmed and scared me. The fallout from this prank—I hated to even call it that, because it was so much more—would be embarrassing for my father.

But I needed him right now. No matter what, I knew he loved me.

“I love you more than myself, more than my own family, for Christ’s sake. I don’t want to take another step in this world without you next to me,” he said softly.

His sweet words washed over me, but they were like a hand that was just out of reach. I could see it. I wanted to take it. But I couldn’t.

“Tate.” The weight of his hand fell on my shoulder, and I whipped around, flinging him off. Constant tears, anger, and weariness burned my eyes as I scalded him with my stare.

He ran a hand through his hair again, and I could see the worry lines on his forehead. “You have every right not to trust me, Tate. I know that. My fucking heart is ripping open tight now. I can’t stand the way you’re looking at me. I could never hurt you again. Please…let’s try to fix this together.” His voice cracked, and his eyes were red.