If only because that heartless prick would hear about it and know he broke me. No way in hell I’m letting that happen.
The sight of a bathroom door markedLadiesis my salvation. I cut across the hall, dodging passing people who will know soon enough why I’m in such a hurry. If they don’t already—it’s like there’s some kind of supernatural connection between these creeps, like they instantly download any mean, nasty news. Like it gets sent directly to their brains. What brains they have, anyway.
Thank God it’s empty in here, with a row of stalls sitting open. I take the last one in the far corner, tears blurring my vision by the time I slam the door shut and flip the lock.
Why?It’s the only question reverberating in my skull as I lean my back against the wall and cover my face with my hands. Tears drip down my cheeks and into my palms. I don’t have the strength to hold them back anymore. I’m so tired. Tired of every day feeling like a battle. I had enough to deal with before the twins from hell entered my life. The spawn of Satan. Why did I have to see them that night? Why couldn’t I have left five minutes earlier or later?
Why won’t the world just leave me alone?
“Looks like Emma is reinventing herself.” I still hear it even now, hundreds of days and thousands of miles later. That was before anybody knew about the leukemia, when I was only the shy, quiet girl whose parents died and who suddenly started wearing a different hairstyle. Back then, I pretty much minded my own business and kept my head down. Not unlike the way I do now.
But my first wig brought attention I’d never experienced before and sure didn’t ask for. What is it about some people? They sense the slightest bit of weakness and turn into sharks smelling blood in the water. Circling. Ready to snap their jaws.
And just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, somebody spotted me at the hospital. Everybody swung from one extreme to the other. I was either the poor, tragic object of pity or the walking ghost everybody stared at like they were waiting for me to yell ‘boo’. I couldn’t have jumped faster at the idea of moving to a new town, where I could start fresh. Where nobody had to know. I could be free.
Bitter laughter mixes in with my choked sobs. How naïve could I be? There is no freedom. Not for me. Before meeting the evil twins, there might have been a chance, but I live with a storm cloud over my head. Meeting them and becoming their target was probably inevitable.
It takes a minute or two for the darkness to start clearing. The sobs turn to sniffles and the tears dry, and I can breathe again. Okay, so everybody knows I wear a wig. That doesn’t mean they know I’m sick. They’ll forget about this after a little while. They’ll have to. I get the feeling they’re easily bored, always looking for the next dopamine hit.
This doesn’t have to ruin anything for me. I can handle these assholes until they move on, and that includes the twins. They have to get tired and give up, right? How much more do I have to endure before they get the hint that I’m not going to cower in front of them?
Because I’ve lived through much worse than them. Losing Mom and Dad out of nowhere. Helping Grandma recover after her stroke. My diagnosis and everything that’s come after. Losing Granddad.
Those pussies think they can scare me?
My shoulders roll back as the last of my heartbreak fizzles away. I’m stronger than this. And I’m not hiding out in a public bathroom that reeks of bleach and cheap air freshener. Opening the door, I go to the sink to splash my blotchy face and make sure my wig is on straight.That asshole.He couldn’t even be decentenough to hand it back right away once he knew he made a mistake. Anybody with half a brain would have, but not Preston. I wish I had introduced my knee to his balls, too.
The door to the hallway opens with a soft whoosh before a voice fills the air. “I told him, I don’t swallow just any guy’s load. What do I look like?” a girl almost barks as she’s followed in by a pair of giggling friends.
Her obnoxiousness makes me wrinkle my nose before I can help it. “What?” the girl asks, stopping in her tracks. Because, of course, she noticed my reaction. Because this day needed an extra level of misery.
Looking up from where I’m washing my hands, I find them staring at me. “Hmm?” Because why not? Might as well pretend I have no clue.
“Take that shitty face off your head,” she warns, swinging a thick braid over her shoulder and putting her hands on her hips. As soon as her gaze shifts to my wig, her eyes light up. “Or you could spare us all and take that shitty wig off instead.”
“I don’t think it’s shitty, Tiana,” one of her little minions decides, while the other two snicker. “My grandmom wears one just like it, and she always looks nice.”
Once again, why? Why are people like this? Until just now, I have never exchanged a word with Tiana or any of these girls. Why do they have to start with me? It’s Friday afternoon. Don’t they have anything better to do?
When I don’t respond, Tiana moves closer. “I’m talking to you. Did you lose your hearing, too? Or just your hair?”
My ears are ringing. The sound gets a little louder with every beat of my heart. Who does she think she is? Who do any of these people think they are? Like wearing a wig is anything to make fun of somebody about.
“Where did you get it?” Tiana’s full lips curve in a nasty smile before she reaches out like she wants to test the quality… or yankit off my head the way Preston did. In my mind’s eye, I see the wig I bought at the high end of my budget shoved into one of the toilets behind me.
Does she plan on pulling it off and ruining it? I don’t wait around to find out. Instead, my arm shoots out in a sweeping motion, knocking her arm away before she can make contact. “Didn’t anybody ever teach you to keep your hands to yourself?” My question is sharp enough and loud enough to bounce off the walls and floor, filling the space until I can actually hear myself over the ringing that won’t stop.
She was only looking for the excuse. I know it as soon as her eyes narrow, and she almost snarls, then shoves me. “I put my hands any damn place I want to put them,” she almost shouts while I stumble backward. She caught me off guard.
But it’s more than that. And I know it as soon as my back hits the cool tile wall. When my whole body turns into one big, throbbing ache, and my legs threaten to buckle.
“What?” Tiana barks while the others close in on me, looming large. “Can’t back up that big mouth of yours? You’re so tough, aren’t you? Look at you now.”
Yes, look at me now. Way outnumbered and weak as hell in the first place. What am I thinking, doing anything but quietly going on my way when it’s four against one, and I’m this weak? I’ve never even been in a fistfight.
Really, that knee to the balls I gave Easton was as violent as I’ve ever been.
“Come on,” Tiana taunts, even pushing up the sleeves of the loose cardigan she wears over a pair of tight shorts and a skimpy tank top. “Let’s see what you’ve got, tough bitch.”
