Page 71 of Revenge At Raleigh High
I’m so tired all of a sudden that it’s an effort to keep my eyes open. With a monumental force of will, I arch an eyebrow at him, pulling one side of my mouth up into a smirk. “Whatever you say, Jake.” It was a stroke of luck that I laughed in his face when he raped me. I had no idea how badly it would fuck with his head. I know perfectly well how it affects him now. “Just get on with it, Weaving. You’re boring the shit out of me.”
“URRRRAAAAGGHHHH!”
I don’t see his fist until it’s too late. I blink, and when I open my eyes, there are his knuckles, an inch away from my face. I broke my leg when I was a kid. Broke my arm at my first ever cheer rally when I was fourteen, too. Never broken my nose, though. ThePOP!comes first. The searing, eye-watering pain doesn’t come until a couple of seconds later. Blood gushes down my face, running over my lips, seeping in between my lips; it’s also pouring down the back of my throat, effectively cutting off my airway again.
“It’s hardly a scream, but I suppose I can be satisfied with a little coughing and spluttering. Hey, Parisi. Parisi, hey, look at me.” Grabbing me by the chin, he tilts my face up, but again I don’t give him what he wants. I can’t look at him. I can’t see a thing, because my eyes are watering so badly. Jake turns my face one way, and then another, grunting quietly, taking a moment to appraise his handiwork.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Silver. You are gonna make onefuckeduplooking corpse.”
Bile burns like fire as it climbs up my esophagus. Fighting my natural urge to retch, I ride out the pain spreading its fingers across my face, and I wait.
Not yet…
Not yet…
Jake’s oblivious until the very last second, when I pitch forward and violently purge the contents of my stomach all down the front of his t-shirt.
“Uhhh, what the ffuu—you dirty fucking bitch!” He lets go of me, pulling his shirt away from his chest, and I’m ready.
I take the opportunity, and I bolt.
My body vibrates with adrenalin—Free. He let go. I’m FREE—and for one blissful moment, nothing hurts. My ribs are numb. My head is numb. My face is numb. My fight or flight reflexes kick in beautifully. Even my vision clears for a second. Long enough to see the door to the shower room approaching fast. I slam through it, immediately taking a left, gunning for the exit to the locker rooms, but then…
This is the boy’s locker rooms. Everything is flipped, not where it’s supposed to be. Before me lies a solid brick wall.
Jake charges out of the showers, a storm raging on his face as he comes right at me. I pick up the first thing I lay my hands on, and I swing…
The lacrosse stick makes contact with the side of Jake’s skull, cracking him on the side of the head. He roars, his face turning a purple as he presses the heel of his palm to his temple. The blow doesn’t stop him coming. It only makes him angrier as he barrels straight at me.
I lurch backwards, half jumping, half falling over a bench. Jake, in his fury, doesn’t see the bench either and collides with it, the wood smacking him square in the shins.
Left, left, left, Silver. Run!
The voice of reason in my head, somehow still functioning despite the terror and fear pounding out a frantic tattoo against my ear drums, urges me forward, drives me on, desperate that I should make the most out of every single second Jake falters.
Left I go.
Planting my hand against the wall of locker doors beside me, I use what little strength I have to propel myself forward. My legs are going to give out. My heart’s going to explode any second. The burning, needling in my lungs makes it feel like I’ve inhaled a colony of fire ants. Still I manage to run, and I do not look back.
“SILVER!” Jake’s shout bounces around the locker rooms, ricocheting off the walls. “Where are you gonna go, Silver? All the exits are locked!”
The door to the locker room slams closed behind me. A hundred feet away, down the long, narrow hallway that yawns out in front of me, lies the main entrance to the school.
My way out.
Freedom.
Blindly, I race toward the doors, fists pumping, hope coming alive with every forward step I take.
Halfway to the doors, I see that Jacob lied. The door isn’t chained or locked. It’s chocked open with a rock; there’s a crack in the door, revealing a couple of inches of empty parking lot beyond.
If I can just get outside…
If I can just make it through those doors…
If I can just—
I’m floating. My feet are off the ground. I’m flying forward, hurtling even faster, arms stretching out…
