Page 4 of Love is Angry

Disbelief keeps my eyes pinned to him, despite the fact that all I want to do is look away. There’s no mistaking the hatred burning in those dark blue eyes. He would chop my head off if he could. Flay me. He’d throw in a good disembowelment, too, before feeding what’s left of my carcass to the alligators.

“I asked you a fucking question.”

“Huh… Right…” I suck in a breath and force myself back into my own body.

Dammit, I came this far. My dad worked hard to help get me here. I had to put up with bimbo cheerleaders and braindead jocks for three whole years to make it into Cornell.

The Echeverias destroyed most of my life already. What more can I give? What more can I allow them to take?

No, I’m done. I’m done being their victim. Done being Rhue’s punching bag.

This energy comes from somewhere and though I have no idea what fuels it, I am thankful for it, nonetheless. Apparently, my defense systems work even when my heart is an absolute mess and my brain is glitching. Otherwise I can’t explain the strength that fills my words as I raise my chin at him.

“I’m a student here. First year, majoring in Anthropology. I could ask what you’re doing here, but the answer is as evident to me as it should have been to you.”

“You don’t fucking belong here,” he hisses.

He looks like he’s just about ready to jump out of his seat and rip my throat out.

I flinch. Does he actually have it in him to get physical? He’s never tried that before. Though, truth be told, I only saw him once after his mother died, and I didn’t stick around back then to experience the full force of his wrath. I deserved it then, and I would probably deserve it now. But Cornell has been my father’s dream. My dream, too. And that dream doesn’t just determine the now, but the future as well.

It’s the rest of my life I’m fighting for, and I cannot allow Rhue, or anybody else, to burn it to the ground.

“My tuition payments are up to date,” I reply dryly. “I’m paid up for the whole year, in fact.”

He narrows his eyes at me, the hatred oozing off him like water off a duck’s back.

“I suppose sucking my father’s cock paid well enough to get you into Cornell. I doubt tutoring covered even a sliver of the yearly fee.”

Shame. Anger. I feel it all. This place isn’t empty and though no one’s gasped at the nerve on Rhue, it’s impossible that no one has heard his accusations. Evenso, I refuse to roll over and play the victim.

I suck in a deep breath and pull my defenses up. “How I got here is none of your goddamn business,” I shoot back, though my insides are quaking. The adrenalin courses through me like grand rapids of ice and fire. “I’m not going anywhere, Rhue. There are other empty seats farther down in the auditorium. If my presence bothers you as much as it seems to, please feel free to move.”

“Youneed to get the fuck away from me,Madison.”

I can’t help but cringe. “What are you, twelve? Fine, stay, but leave me alone. I’m here to study and make something of myself.”

“Being the prime whore of Rochester wasn’t enough?”

Letting a heavy breath out, I choose to ignore him. This isn’t Rhue’s turf. Cornell University is neutral ground.

Unlike most other Ivy League universities, at Cornell, power isn’t claimed by the students’ bank accounts, but by their performance. It’s the one thing that has kept this school at the forefront of academic excellence. It’s the one thing that gives me comfort now, knowing that Echeveria money won’t touch me here.

“You don’t miss being a whore?” he asks, irked by my attitude.

Somehow, that gives me great pleasure. It proves how infantile this whole exchange truly is.

“You’re supposed to be an adult male, yet you insist on behaving like a little boy,” I say, choosing to not even look at him.

Rhue is a bold man, a proud man. He demands the full attention and the respect of anyone he addresses, he always has. Yet here I am, depriving him of both.

His anger bubbles beneath the surface, so hot that I can almost hear the steam simmering from where I’m sitting.

“I would rather have nothing to do with you, Rhue. I’m only here to study. I’m not looking for trouble.” I say the words--but I’m still sitting here, aren’t I? At least I’m smart enough to know that my words and my actions are at odds, I guess.

“Well, then, tough shit, Madison. This is just the beginning.”

Professor Harman walks in. He’s about the size of a tiny doll from where I’m sitting, but he is the single most important person in my life right now. I remind myself of that fact as I attempt to drag all my attention away from Rhue and focus it on the good professor.

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