And every time I fall for it, I feel even more stupid.
I text Alice to fill her in on the latest debacle.
Me:
So this is really, really fucked up.
Things were going well.
And I was beginning to really trust him.
Which I should have known meant he was about to sabotage it hard.
Alice:
I know. But these are the colors he’s been hiding all along.
Me:
Like I can’t even write a villain so gruesome.
Hope he’s proud.
She was crying, clearly bc he said multiple times ‘I don’t want to upset you.’
Alice:
So now we tell him nothing.
Me:
Nothing at all.
Which tells me he’s not the person I should be with.
Alice:
Yeah.
Timmy leaves and then returns after a while, his mood mercurial as always. He busies himself with my desk, rearranging papers and supplies despite having just done it the other day. It’s clearly an act of control, a way to establish dominance in my space.
I feel his eyes on me.
“Who are you talking to?” he asks, his voice sharp.
“None of your business, bruh,” I reply, keeping my tone flat.
I’m not in the mood for Timmy’s bullshit. He just crossed a line that can never be uncrossed. To hurtmeis one thing, but to use me as a weapon to hurt his mother and destroy her opinion of me with one cruel act? Unforgivable.
He narrows his eyes, but doesn’t respond. Instead, he walks over, presses his ass against me, and farts.
“Slut,” he says, smirking as if this is the height of comedy.
My fingernails dig into my palms. I count to three.
Don’t react. Don’t give him the satisfaction.
“You’re so ugly inside and out,” he continues, venom dripping from every syllable. “You’re just a small, unattractive person.”