It hits the same as being fucked?—
body gone corpse-still,
acid flooding the back of my throat.
She turns into him,
pressing herself up against his arm.
“C’mon, this how you wanna end your night?”
Then it happens slow,
seconds dragging out,
the way Andrew’s gaze wraps around me,
two eyes like two fingers pressed against my pulse,
feeling me walking away before I do.
He’s shaking his head,
vein bulging in his neck like a fist—Jersey pissed.
I turn just as his arm flies up, blocking her.
“Nah—I’m done.
“I’m sofuckin’done.
“Get your hands off me.”
My boots are already beating the floor,
trying to escape the massacre in my chest.
My heart’s screaming—look back, coward.
My brain’s threatening—don’t you dare.
I ignore my heart. She’s stupid.
This is all her fault in the first place.
And I’d rather think than feel.
I hear him behind me?—
“Allison, Allison—please, wait.”
But I don’t. I keep walking.
Away from the girls.
From their stories.
From their memories.
