Page 112 of We Shouldn't Be Together
Don’t bring up her dad.
Especially, don’t bring up her dad and Clint in the same sentence.
I had the slap coming.
I press the ice-pack closer to my skin.
No, I didn’t deserve to be slapped.
I shouldn’t take this anymore.
I watch Mrs. Whiteborne tend to Cammy. I should say something. I should tell the truth. I should file an incident report on Cammy. Get her suspended. Get her out of my life.
Once Cammy is fitted with a bandage and her own ice-pack, Mrs. Whiteborne tells us to return to the gym with a note that excuses us to watch from the sidelines.
When Mrs. Whiteborne asks me if I need anything else, I freeze. I can’t do it. I can’t confess what Cammy did.
“No, ma’am,” I whisper, and leave the nurse’s office behind Cammy.
Cammy grunts. “What a surprise. You’re following right behind me again.”
“Excuse me?”
“Always following. My little pet sheep.”
“Are you really going there?” I raise my voice. “After what you just did to me?”
She whips around. “And what did I just do to you?”
I gulp at the fury in her eyes. “You… Uh… The…”
She scowls, turning back around. “That’s what I thought.”
“You…” I stammer. “You know what you did.”
She stops in place. The tension in her shoulders creases the back of her gym T-shirt.
“Are you happy you did it?” I persist.
“No,” she says flatly. “I’m not happy about how you cruelly attacked me and I was forced to defend myself.”
My jaw hangs open, and my gasp takes away any energy left to question her.
Cammy turns around, tears streaming down her face. “Look at how Coach Oliver will see me. What am I supposed to tell her? That my best friend went crazy?”
“I… I… What are you saying?”
She sniffs hard, wrapping the ice-pack around her fingers. “I can’t believe how much you hurt me, Tabitha.”
At that, she walks toward the gym and I’m too paralyzed to move. Is she really going to tell Coach Oliver I attacked her? After I just let her off the hook with the school nurse?
I stumble backwards in hopes of a locker to prop me up. I keep trudging until I’m in an alcove. I shudder a breath and drop to my knees. As I cradle the ice-pack against my cheek, tears cascade down my face. Ugly, guttural sobs rumble out of me as I sit in the darkened corner.
With zero energy to move after crying until my stomach hurts, I stay in this hidden corner until the bell rings. The hallway floods with roaming students. I’m supposed to be going to lunch right now. Just the thought of food makes me wanna hurl. Besides, I’m in no state to be seen by the general public.
Outside the alcove, I hear Freddy’s distinct voice. Every muscle inside me cramps.Please, don’t find me. Please, don’t find me. He’d never leave me alone if he saw me crying at school.
Oh my gosh, this is so embarrassing. I’m freaking crying at school! I’m thankful when Freddy’s voice leaves my immediate area, and when the sounds in the hallway drop to a minimum, sadness and isolation take over my being.
