Bittersweet Symphony (Bittersweet #4)(9)
Kennedy
Ryder has told me on numerous occasions that us going to breakfast isn’t anything out of the ordinary. I mean, friends can always be seen going out to eat together, but it didn’t feel like that with Ryder; it felt deeper. Every time our fingers accidently touch or our eyes meet, there is a charge.
I am just putting all my books into my backpack when Mimi sends me a text telling me to meet her at the library. Wow, little, ole Mimi is going to actually study!
I let out a low growl. This is the only shitty thing about college: why couldn’t we stay inside, wear no pants, and go to school? I mean, I would love it if I didn’t have to leave home and walk to every class.
I leave the dorm room and walk down the hall. I hate living here; even though I don’t have to share with a roommate, it doesn’t make it any better. Living anywhere, where it seems like a bee hive, isn’t my kind of thing.
Once outside, I suck in the fresh air. It’s January in California, and the weather is anything but hot. Then again, it’s not really cold enough for it to snow either. I make the trek over to the library. Just as I’m about to enter the building, a shadow casts in front of me and I look up, my gaze colliding with Sam’s.
“I see your little boyfriend is nowhere in sight.” Every time he comes around I feel like puking. Ryder’s right, there are bad people out there, and Sam, yeah, he’s one of them.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I say, holding my head high. Sam has done so much damage to me. He thinks he can control me, mold me into the person he wants me to be. But he can’t. I won’t conform to whatever it is he wants.
“Sure looked a lot like it when he was sticking up for you. What did you pay him? Oh wait, you’re poor, Kennedy, so we all know you didn’t pay him anything. What did you give him?” That comment right there, yeah, that’s a low blow: insinuating that I had sex with him in return for protection. I’m thinking he’s been smoking a little bit more Mary Jane than usual.
“Are you high? You realize how stupid that makes you sound right? Do I look like the type to slut myself out for protection from you? You’re the only person who ever f*cks with me. Leave me alone, Sam,” I growl out. There’s a new found confidence in me, seems Ryder’s words affect me more than I thought. I am scared, terrified of Sam and what he’s capable of. Yet, here I am standing up to him.
“Did you just talk back to me?” His eyes bulge out, and his perfect hair falls onto his face. The more and more I look at him, the less perfect he seems. He’s a monster, a monster who talks to me as if he’s my mom. I must be getting brave or my give a shit meter has reached its limit because I find myself mocking him.
“What are you my mom?” I don’t expect an answer; hell, I don’t want an answer.
“God no, if you were my daughter I would have gotten rid of you the moment I knew I was pregnant with you.” He laughs right in my face. He’s evil and sinister, and his words really hurt, but they’re just that: words.
“I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not going to work. Now move out of my way, so I can go study. My IQ dropped by like a million standing here talking to you.” Honestly, I don’t even recognize myself right now.
Sam steps into my space, my sparkly, pink bubble pops as his fingers dig into my collar bone. The pain brings tears to my eyes. I see the hate and anger bubbling right under the surface on him. Why does he think he can touch me? What possesses him to think he has a right to be near me, to even breathe the same air as I? Because you let him, a little voice echoes back to me.
“Remove your hands from me. If you ever, and I mean ever, touch me again, I will break every single one of your f*cking fingers. I don’t know who you think you’re but this isn’t high school anymore. You don’t rule this school. You’re not the king and I will not bow to you anymore.” I let every ounce of anger out as I pull away from him.
The pain he inflected throbs through me, but fades as I realize I sent him to the curb.
“Growing balls now, are we?”
I roll my eyes, already done with his shit. You know someone’s off the rails when they start thinking they can physically hurt you. Although, that’s nothing new with him.
“She’s got bigger balls then you’ll ever have,” Mimi says before I can conjure up a response.
“Are you jealous?” She adds, standing right next to me. There’s a look of hate in her eyes, and as many times as we have talked about what Jenna went through, I never wanted her to know about Sam and me, about the way he treats me.
“And you are?” Sam spats out, obviously irritated by Mimi’s presence.
“Your worst nightmare,” she purrs. They stand staring at one another, and I start to feel like I’m intruding. Mimi has that effect on people sometimes: like if you piss her off one too many times, she’ll gladly put you in your place.
“A nightmare is definitely what you are…” Sam says, running his hands through his dark, black hair. He used to be beautiful, kind of like that brand new toy you open up on Christmas morning. Over time it gets worn out and broken, and eventually it gets left behind. He is still nice looking, just a whole lot more of an *.
“Listen here, buddy, take yourself and your shitty attitude and go elsewhere. I’ve drawn maps for *s like you and let’s just say yours will land you in the local jail. Put your hands on someone like her again, I will hurt you.” There’s so much distaste in her words, I can almost feel it. Then Sam does something he’s never done: he smiles, turns around, and walks away without another word. My mouth hangs open, probably dragging on the floor as I look at Mimi.