“Open the goddamn door!” She, whoever the hellshewas, screamed, drawing plenty of attention to herself.
Anger burned deep inside. He betrayed me in the worst way possible. Denying his own sexuality was one thing, but taking away what we had, denying what we were, was another thing entirely. Anger turned to rage. I reached for the knob, twisted it, and sneered at Shane. “No. Why don’t we letherexplain? Who issheanyway?”
“No, please. Just…” It was too late to finish his sentence. An icy blast of the fall air blew in as I opened the door.
She stood there in the doorway, mouth agape and silent for a moment. “You?” She lifted a wobbling accusatory finger at Shane who stood there, shocked. “And him?” She waved her hand back and forth between the two of us, disgust clearly written on her face.
Before anyone could utter another word, she whipped out her phone, snapped a few pictures, and stared Shane down. “You’ll pay for this, you asshole.”
Then she was gone. It was just the two of us and I wanted no part of being anywhere near him. Shane stood there, motionless. I was vibrating with anger. It bubbled up until I could no longer contain it.
“You’re pathetic!” I stepped in front of him, merely inches away. “I don’t even know what the fuck to say. You have agirlfriend?A fucking girlfriend!” I cursed. My hands were fisted so tightly my knuckles actually cracked with the pressure.
“It’s not what you think.” Shane’s voice trembled, but I’d had enough.
“No?” I scoffed sarcastically, scanning the room for the rest of my clothes. “Because let me tell you what I think. I think you’re weak.” I poked a finger at his chest, striding past him to where my shirt was tossed across the back of the chair.
“I’m not weak.” He kept his voice low as he followed me. Grabbing my shoulder, he tried to turn me around, but I brushed him off.
“Leave me the fuck alone.” I pulled my shirt on and stepped into my jeans before falling down onto the small armchair to the side of the door. With my elbows leaning on my thighs, I held my head in my hands.
He knelt in front of me, worked his way in between my legs, and pulled my face to meet his. “I’m sor−”
I pushed him back; he fell on his ass. I didn’t care. “I don’t give a fuck that you’re sorry. I don’t give a shit.” Flying around the room in a fit of rage, I grabbed my wallet. Sliding my sneakers on without even bothering to tie them, I found my keys and rushed to the door.
“I trusted you,” I seethed as I stopped at the door, looking back at him sprawled out on the floor. “And you fucked it all up. Just like you fuck up everything.” Slamming the door with such force caused the frame of the shitty motel to shake.
I got in my car and sped away, the tires screeching and leaving angry black marks on the pavement.
“Aren’t you supposed to be home?” John’s voice was groggy. I’d obviously woken him up. It was barely ten in the morning and he was not a morning person. He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes.
“Yeah and now I’m here,” I snapped.
He threw his feet over the side of his bed and took a bottle of water out of the mini-fridge hidden under his bed. “Trouble in paradise?” He drank half of the bottle in one sip as he looked at me over the raised bottle.
“I don’t want to get into it.” I kicked off my shoes, pulled out my phone to call my mom to tell her I wouldn’t be home until Thanksgiving. Even though we didn’t have classes, I’d rather spend the week alone in my dorm than go back home and deal with Shane.
“Too bad.” His voice was calm and in control, but it had an air of compassion to it. “I want to hear about it. So spill it. What happened? You’ve been looking forward to this weekend since you last saw Shane a month ago.”
I stared at him. The hour-and-a-half car ride had done nothing to help me calm down. Shane must have called my phone a dozen times, probably more, but after twenty minutes, I shut the thing off. I didn’t want to hear his voice. I couldn’t, actually. Because I knew if I did, if I listened to one single voicemail that I would have cracked under the pressure. I would have turned the car back around and driven to save him from the shithole that was his life because the one thing I realized on the way back to school was plain as day.
I didn’t hate him one bit.
I loved him.
With everything that I had and everything that I ever would be.
But I was too proud and too damn hurt to admit that right now, especially to Shane.
So I actively chose to stay pissed off at him. Not to take my words back. I’d thought him anything but weak through the years. In fact, I was astounded at how strong he was, sticking up for his mom and for Reid more times than I knew I would have been capable of.
I was being an ass and I was fully aware of it, but no one had ever hurt me the way he did. Did he have a reasonable explanation? Who the hell knew? But right then, I didn’t care to hear it. So as I called my mom, gave her some lame-ass excuse about failing a paper and needing to re-write it before I failed the course, I ignored all of Shane’s texts and calls.
“Hey, you in there somewhere?” John tossed his empty water bottle at me after I hung up with my mom.
I launched it back at him and sat there in my world of angered self-pity.
He shook his head and laughed at me before pulling his desk chair up to mine. “This one time−”
