“Fuck. Who are you to him?” James asked nervously. I glanced at him, unable to form words as his door was pulled open and he was ripped from his seat. Abel shoved him against the frame of the door, the gun pressed into the underside of his chin.
“I’m only going to say this once. If you ever come near Delilah again, I’ll make the beating you took over Becca look like a fucking birthday party.”
The memories of my past flooded my mind, leaving me paralyzed in fear.
“I won’t come near her, man. Fuck.” James raised his hands in surrender, and Abel gripped the collar of his shirt. Abel shoved him hard against the car and rounded the car to my side. He yanked open my door and held out his hand to me.
“Let’s go, Kettle. I’m not asking you this time.”
My gaze fell to the gun in his hand, and I couldn’t breathe. My lungs felt like they were being squeezed in my chest. Abel’s eyes followed mine, and he tucked the gun into the front of his jeans.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Lie. You can trust me,” he said, as he pulled his shirt over the weapon, hiding it from view.
“I’m not going to make that mistake twice.” I cowered away from him, and he took a step back as he ran his hand over his hair.
“I couldn’t let you leave with him. You don’t know what kind of person he is.”
“But you do, don’t you?” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Because you’re just like him.” I glanced up in time to see his expression soften, replaced by regret.
“I was trying to protect you.”
“Let me save you the trouble of history repeating itself. I’m not worth it.” I stood, and he took a step back, looking as confused as I felt. I started to walk toward my apartment, no longer caring what might be lurking in the shadows.
I was two blocks away from the party when my phone rang. I ignored it and kept walking as fast as I could. Two blocks farther, and my phone had rung no less than three times and vibrated half a dozen. I crossed the street and dipped down an alley just to be sure that if anyone came looking for me, they wouldn’t find me. I needed some time to myself as I sank into my memories.
Going back to school after I had run away only seemed to amplify my loser status. I didn’t fit in with anyone, and I gave up trying.
I skipped school on most days, but the hunger pains began to outweigh the sadness, and I was forced to show my face just so I could have lunch. I sat in the far corner of the cafeteria with the other kids who were deemed too uncool to be seen with.
I took a bite of my Mexican pizza and dropped it onto my tray, careful not to look up from the table. Making eye contact with any of the other students was an invitation to start trouble in their eyes. Today I didn’t need to, though, because they sought me out.
“Do you try to look hideous on purpose, or were you born that ugly?” Shelly said, as she stood on the opposite side of the table. I didn’t look up, and she grew more frustrated with my lack of a response. “I asked you a question, freak.”
I wiped the crumbs from my hands and took a deep breath as I finally met her glare. She pushed her long blond hair over her shoulder and smirked.
“What’s your problem with me?” My voice was shaky, and I cleared my throat.
“My problem? I have to look at your stupid face every day. How am I supposed to keep my lunch down with your stupid face right here?”
I felt everyone’s eyes on me as Shelly’s voice grew louder. If I didn’t leave now, I’d cry, and that would give them more ammunition. I pushed myself up from my seat and grabbed my tray. “I’m done now,” I told her, “so you can go back to eating.”
Shelly laughed as two girls appeared at her side and joined in.
“You know…” She placed her hands on the table and leaned in closer to me. “You could spare us all and just kill yourself. It’s not like anyone wants you here.”
“Her own stupid mom doesn’t even want her,” Keri added, and I felt like I was going to be physically ill.
I looked to the boy who sat in front of me. He was eating his food as if he were oblivious to the torture I was enduring. Even he knew I wasn’t worth standing up for.
“Maybe I’ll do that.” I grabbed my tray and hurried to the trashcans by the door, where I dumped my food and dashed into the hall. My feet picked up pace when I was out of sight from the bullies, and I ran toward the emergency exit at the end of the hall, desperate to get outside before I began to sob.
It took only another ten minutes to reach my apartment, and I was thankful Abel’s car wasn’t out front. I stomped up the steps and into my room, anger flowing from every pore. I wanted to break something; I wanted to show everyone I wasn’t a fucking kid, but I barely owned anything, and what little I did I couldn’t part with. My phone rang again, and I answered it, ready to snap.