I convinced her to go out with me, so I know I’ll eventually convince her to marry me.
I just need to channel patience for a while.
ChapterTwenty-Seven
Stevie
“Whore!” The word is hissed in my ear the second I exit the cafeteria after eating lunch with Garrick. He went out the rear door with Will and Ellen, so I’m alone for this encounter with Simone.
A heavy sigh escapes my lips. I’m not in the mood for this shit today. I’m quickly running out of patience with this girl, but I’m also conscious she seems to have a mental health issue, so I try to tread carefully whenever she accosts me. Something that is occurring more regularly in recent weeks, and I’ll have to take serious action soon if she doesn’t stop.
Garrick made a report to the dean at the end of last semester after the shit that went down at the bar and the vile things she said to me. I reported her at the start of this semester when it became clear she had switched her harassment from him to me. I blocked her number and her email after she sent me several abusive messages. Manford spoke to the boss at the bar, and Simone is permanently banned from The End Zone, and Sharon banned her from Butterfly Flowers, but I still see her around campus. I can’t quite call it stalking, but it’s enough to piss me off despite trying not to let her rile me up.
“Simone. I’m not doing this with you again,” I say as she steps in front of me, blocking my path. “You need to get over this, and I highly suggest you sign up for therapy.” I attempt to move around her, but she mirrors my position, thwarting my attempt to break free. “Move out of my way, Simone.” I’m already cutting it close for my shift at the flower shop, but Sharon will be cool if I’m a little late.
“You’re drugging him,” she snaps, spittle flying from her mouth. “It’s the only reason that makes sense. He should have kicked you to the curb by now. You have nothing on me,” she adds, raking her gaze over me in a derisory fashion I’m well used to by now. “Nothing.”
I’m tempted to tell her to take a look in the mirror because the girl looks like shit. The only reason I don’t snark back is because her outward appearance hints at the state of her troubled inner mind, and I don’t want to set her off or have her harm herself because of my actions. I never let her words affect me. They coast over my head every time. I feel sorry for her more than anything else. But she’s a fucking nuisance, and Garrick and I are both short on patience now. I know the college spoke to her, but I don’t know what else may or may not have happened.
Whatever the intervention was, it’s clearly not working, and something else will have to be done.
I am not putting up with this harassment for much longer.
I make one last attempt to get through to her. “You need help, Simone. Garrick isn’t interested in you. Whether I am his girlfriend or not doesn’t change that fact.” I deliberately use a soft voice and talk to her like I’d talk to a child. “You are wasting your college experience on a guy who will never return your interest. You need to forget about him and concentrate on yourself.”
“I don’t take advice from gingers,” she screams, and the wild look in her eyes has me stepping sideways. But I’m not fast enough. “How dare you patronize me!” she yells, throwing herself at me and taking us both down.
My body slams into the asphalt as I land heavily on the ground with the crazy bitch on top of me. My bones rattle, and pain splices through my head as my skull meets the hard ground. Stars whizz before my eyes. I cry out when stinging pain radiates across my scalp as the bitch yanks on my hair, roaring in my face and yelling obscenities.
“Fuck, Stevie. Are you okay?” a man with a somewhat familiar voice asks as Simone’s weight is suddenly gone from on top of me.
My eyes are blurry, and a metallic taste lands on my tongue as it darts out, dabbing over a small cut on my lip.
A strong arm goes around my back when I’m gently lifted into a sitting position. “Are you hurt?”
I attempt to take stock of my injuries as the guy converses with a few other voices. I’m vaguely aware of Simone screeching in the background.
“I’m going to call Garrick,” he says as I raise trembling hands to my face and brush hair away from my eyes.
Gradually, my sight and my hearing return to normal as the adrenaline coursing through my veins calms down. My back aches, and pain throbs in my skull, but I don’t think I’m seriously injured.
“Garrick is on his way,” my savior says, and I blink profusely as I stare into Cohen’s concerned face.
“You,” I croak, immediately clearing my throat. “Get away from me,” I add, suddenly aware his arm is still around my back and he’s keeping me propped up. A small crowd has formed around us, and I spy two campus policemen approaching. Two of Cohen’s jock buddies are restraining a thrashing Simone as she cries, shouts, and writhes like someone on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
I should hate her for what she just did, but pity is my predominant emotion as I look at her. I’m super pissed as well, but hopefully, this is the end of the harassment and I can breathe easier around campus. The girl needs psychiatric help, and perhaps now she’ll get it.
An earnest expression materializes on Cohen’s face. “I’m not leaving you alone until Garrick gets here.” Remorse floods his features. “I owe you an apology, Stevie. Several, actually.”
“You do, but that’s the least of my worries right now.” I attempt to get up, but my sore limbs protest.
“Let me help. Please.” Cohen seems sincere, but I don’t want him touching me. However, my overriding need to get up off the ground before some asshole records the scene supersedes my distaste, so I nod and let him help me to stand. Cohen guides me over to a bench just as campus police arrive. Cohen sits beside me as I give a quick verbal statement. He corroborates my story because he and his buddies witnessed the unprovoked attack.
Pounding footsteps approach, and then Garrick is there, crouching down in front of me, inspecting my face with worried eyes. “Jesus, Stevie. How badly are you hurt?” His eyes flicker to my cut lip and the way I’m hunched over with my arms crossed around my middle. “I am going to ensure the book is thrown at that crazy bitch, and don’t even consider not pressing charges,” he says through gritted teeth.
Cohen obviously fully updated Garrick on his call. “I’m okay.” I take his hand, needing him to ground me right now. “I’m more shocked than anything.”
“I about died when I got Cohen’s call.” He presses a tender kiss to my brow. “I was so scared, sunshine.”
