“Liar!” he thunders, tendons prominently standing out in his neck. “I saw the pictures of you and Jake at the mall.”
Jamal appears at my side. “Let’s get out of here.”
“What?” I blink in disbelief, my voice becoming stronger. “He kissed me!”
“Why didn’t you tell me then, huh? I should’ve known better than to expect the truth from anigger,” he barks, then dumps his drink over my head.
“Asshole!” I scream, my hand flying towards his face, but he seizes my wrist midair.
“You’re going to wish you were never born,” he sneers, flinging me backwards.
“I knew you were a slut,” Victoria jeers, hurling a bowl at me.
Applesauce splatters on my shirt.
“Bitch,” I hiss, rushing forward to smack her ass.
Lori and Rebecca join in before I can reach her. Others quickly follow suit, throwing their lunch at me too. An orange strikes me in the nose and a sharp pain explodes in my face, watering my eyes. I cross my arms over my face for protection. I’m covered in food within seconds.
Dee sweeps me into his arms and barrels out of the cafeteria, Jamal, Lucy, and Kate hot on his trail. Their concerned voices surround me, but in my state of mind, words aren’t correlating. My breathing comes in short rapid pants, overtaxing my starving lungs. Cold air hits me and moments later, Dee deposits me in the passenger seat of his car.
“Where are you taking her?” Kate asks.
“Home,” he answers, clicking the seat belt in place.
“She needs a hospital,” Lucy protests.
“It’s shock,” Dee tells her. “She’ll be fine in an hour.”
“We’ll check on you after school,” Jamal says.
Dee shuts the door. Exhaustion consumes me and my eyes close.
“Cocoa, we’re here.”
My eyelids lift a small fraction. It takes a couple seconds for my muddled brain to realize I’m home. I must’ve fallen asleep. My head throbs, signaling the beginning of a migraine. Suddenly, a wave of debilitating nausea assails me. I’m outside of the car in a flash, emptying the contents of my stomach on the grass.
Dee comes to my aid, holding my hair back. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I rasp, mentally fatigued.
“Do you mind?” He points at my purse.
I hand it to him, and he retrieves my keys, then helps me into the house. At my direction, he escorts me to my bedroom. I tiredly perch on the bed, not caring about soiling the bedding. I’m on the verge of a mental breakdown. I can’t have a witness to my emotional tailspin.
“I want to be alone,” I whisper.
“That’s not a good idea,” he responds, a worried expression etching his features.
“Please go.”
Dee sighs, digging his cell out of his back pocket. “What’s your number?”
I rattle off the digits.
“I’ll call soon to check in,” he says. “Answer your phone.”
“Okay.”
