"Where will you go?"
I haven't even thought about it. This exclusion gives me the opportunity to get far away from here for four weeks, offering me an unexpected reprieve.
"I don't know yet," I finally reply.
"Adams is going to be furious. You'll be in for it when you come back," he warns me.
I just shrug. Emery shakes his head disapprovingly but doesn't add anything else. He stares at me for a moment before turning on his heel. He stops at his doorway, adding, "She's in her room, if you're looking for her."
Then he leaves.
I finish packing my things, and finally, I leave my room. No one speaks to me in the common room. Passing by Dixie's room, I hesitate about what to do.
I have no desire to face Dixie and endure her accusing gaze, but at the same time, I'm furious that she might be with her boyfriend after everything that happened between us.
I don't even knock before entering her room. The door closes behind me, but all I can see is Dixie's swollen face.
Standing on the other side of the room, she returns my gaze in silence.
"I'm leaving," I finally state.
She frowns before wincing from the pain. I can't take my eyes off the bruise spreading across her cheekbone. Guilt claws at my stomach.
"Why did you hit him?" she finally asks.
And I'm stunned into silence. She dares to ask me this question? Does she think I'm made of stone and nothing affects me?
"He didn't deserve it," she says quietly.
This time, I see it in her eyes, that disappointment I never fail to provoke in everyone around me. So I look away, unable to bear it. I should apologize, but the words refuse to leave my lips.
Put your damn ego aside for once!
"Where are you going?"
Her question surprises me. I look up at her, unsure and hurt. "I don't know."
She nods as if responding to a thought, then asks me, "Will you come back?"
"Yes."
My answer seems to relieve her, unless it's just my imagination playing tricks on me.
"Dixie, I..."
Once again, it's impossible for me to say those words she deserves to hear. Her gaze is locked on mine, waiting for a continuation that doesn't come.
All I want is to take her in my arms, kiss her, breathe in her scent and taste her. But that's clearly no longer an option.
I sigh before turning away.
"So that's it? You're not going to explain why you hit Bradley?"
Her question hits me almost more violently than her boyfriend's punches. She thinks I'm responsible for whathappened... Without being innocent, I'm not the one who threw the first punch. But I doubt that would change anything in her eyes.
So, I give her the answer she expects from me and reply without turning around:
"What did you expect? I'm just an asshole, right?"
