Page 21 of For the Fans
Squeezing them shut tight, I scream into my bed, as loud as I can.
I’m twelve years old again… Screaming into the mattress.Screaminguntil my lungs hurt.
“You’ve destroyed everything…”
“Fuck!!” I scream. And cry.
And scream, and cry.
Until, exhausted and hoarse, I fall asleep, with my father’s disappointed tone lulling me in quiet torment.
I wake up to the sound of banging.
Lifting my head is difficult. It feels like it weighs a hundred pounds. My temples are throbbing, my face tight and my throat sore. Clearly, I fell asleep in a rage, which hasn’t happened in a while. Even on Thanksgiving, when my dad proposed to Hannah, it wasn’t this bad.
Slithering out of bed, I rub my eyes. It’s dark outside, which means I must have passed out for at least a few hours. Reaching for my nightstand, I grab a bottle of Excedrin Migraine and pop two. Unfortunately, the pounding in my head is being matched by the sound pounding nearby. It only takes me a few seconds to realize it’s coming from the bathroom door. Or rather,Avi’sbathroom door.
“Kyran! I need to get into the goddamn bathroom!” Avi shouts from inside his bedroom. “Unlock the fucking door, you wank!”
I grin to myself. I must have locked his door this morning before I left for school.
Oops.
Reclining in bed, I close my eyes, waiting for the medicine to kick in and fix this headache. The sounds of him cursing at me through two doors widens my evil smirk. But then it stops, and is replaced by footsteps, followed by a new banging, onmybedroom door.
“Kyran, stop being a whiny bitch and let me into the fucking bathroom!” he hollers at me from out in the hall.
“Use the downstairs one,” I grunt, just barely loud enough for him to hear me.
“No! All my stuff is in this one.” His voice is extra petulant, and it has me rolling my eyes.
“Not my problem, princess,” I huff, still smiling.
I don’t even care if he’s right about karma attacking me, because messing with him is all too satisfying. Especially now.
I’ll take it, if it means getting him back for what he’s taking of mine… My escape plan. It’s so much more important than his special Dove For Men soap he loves to use.
“You’re really being an epic prick, you know that?” he rants through the door. “So I’m going to BC… Big fucking deal. It’s not the end of the world.”
That’s it.My spine stiffens, and I stand up fast, stalking over to the door. Unlocking it, I whip it open, meeting a startled look on his face, as if he didn’t expect me to actually open it.
“Actually, it is,” I growl. “Itisthe end of the world. BC was supposed to get me away from you. And now you’re following me there like some clingy ex-girlfriend.”
He makes a face like he’s amused at my audacity, and it brings the fury back, bounding through my limbs once more.
“You don’t own Boston College.” He folds his arms over his chest. “I can go to school wherever I want. This is America… Land of the free to go into crippling student loan debt anywhere you choose.”
“Exactly,” I hiss. “So go somewhere else. You don’t even care about school.”
“What’s wrong, brother?” He smirks, leaning against the doorframe. “You don’t wanna hang out with me for four more years?”
“I’d rather get kicked in the nuts for four years,” I mutter.
“Oh, well… that can be arranged.” He winks, and I’m about to explode.
Stepping up to his face, I smolder, “If you come to Boston College, I swear to God, I will make your life a living hell…”
But he doesn’t back down. In fact, he squares up to me and grins. “Game on, superstar. In case you haven’t noticed, you don’t intimidate me.”
