Page 58 of Soul of a Psycho

He shrugs again, and it grates on my already frayed sanity. Jesus, what did I ever do to give this kid the impression that we’re buddies?

“What happened to your face?” Ruby squints at him.

Taking a better look, I realize he has the formings of a bruise on his cheekbone, with a scrape under his jaw.

“I fell.” He avoids her eyes.

“You fell?” I grit my teeth, bubbles of rage coming to the surface. “It looks like someone fucking—”

My hand is seized under the table. Soft and delicate fingers press into my palm. I look to the right and find Sky shaking her head slightly. I open my mouth to continue anyway, pissed that he’s lying. I want to know who the fuck thinks they can beat on a sophomore. I’ll show them just how tough they really are.

But Sky squeezes again, this time with a surprising amount of pinch.

“Leave it alone,”she mouths.

I huff and turn, not sure why I should leave it alone.

“Who did it?” I demand.

Sky sighs, and a tiny part of me shudders under her disappointment. It’s annoying. I haven’t felt shame in a long time, and the sudden remorse makes me even angrier.

“Bobby.” I lunge across the table and snap my fingers at him. “Who. Did. It?”

“I fell,” he repeats, scooping up more mac and cheese.

Oh, forfuck’s sake. I yank away his tray, bits of food littering the table.

“I swear to God, if you don’t—”

“They don’t matter.” He finally looks up.

There’s a practicality behind his eyes, an unperturbed finality, as if he really thinks they don’t matter, like him getting beaten and bruised is just a part of life. But it’s not. The parasite that got off on knocking him around is a scourge that needs to be eradicated.

“Are they dead?” I ask, because that’s the only way they don’t matter.

“Uh, no?” He gawks at me like I’m the crazy one.

And sure, maybe I am. But maybe there’s nothing wrong with being crazy. Maybe I’m the only one awake in this shit hole. Maybe crazy is what we label people who can see the teeth-like gears that chew us up and pulverize us to be fertilizer for the next generation of mindless crops.

I would rather be crazy and poison the fields than be thoughtless flora.

“Piss off, Cujo.” Ruby levels me with a glare, and slides the tray back in front of Bobby.

She turns to Sky with a curled lip. “Collar your boyfriend, would you?”

Pink tinges Sky’s cheeks, and any irritation I could feel about the notion that I need a leash evaporates. That flush, god, it makes my dick hard. Even if I know it means something has embarrassed her.

As if noticing Sky’s discomfort, Ruby leans in for the kill and simultaneously ruins my infatuation.

“Oh, are you two not official? Odd. You would think you were soulmates the way you let him hold a knife to—”

“We are.” I stop her before she can reveal my indiscretions to the whole table.

The girl’s—who I’ve remembered are named Callie and Lana—eye’s bulge as a silence falls over the table. Even Bobby looks up, giving Sky a once over that makes me irrationally want to shield her and her ever reddening cheeks from view.

She lets her head fall to hide her face, but I see her bite her lip, cutting off the curve of a smile. A curve that I’ve suddenly caught myself, like a contagion. It’s a foreign feature on my lips, eliciting a warmth in my chest. I wade through helplessly as Ruby slowly leans back into her seat. The others quickly school their shock.

Did I just proclaim that I’m Sky’s boyfriend? The word sounds so menial. But so,so,right.

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