Page 32 of I Was Always Yours (RCA: Royal Crown Academy)

My gaze snaps back to Phoenix when he moves, taking a step towards me and grabbing my chin.

“Stay out of this, Six. I’d conveniently forgotten you existed over the summer.” Technically, he’d been pretending I didn’t exist for far longer but, semantics. “Don’t remind me that you do.”

Shock ricochets through me. Two years of silence and now he finally speaks to me again. I don’t know what drove him to break the seal on this silent war he’d been waging on me, and I don’t frankly care.

I’m more worried about why my body’s first reaction isn’t hate or disgust, but excitement. Adrenaline buzzes through me at the prospect of fighting with him again, because as much as I despise the way he treats me, it’s far less painful than when he acts like I’m one with the wallpaper.

And he’s touching me.

God, he’s touching me.

He’s touched me twice in the past five years and both times it’s felt like he’s seared his fingerprints into my body.

Sometimes, I swear I can still feel his fingers wrapped around my throat from two years ago.

I rip my chin out of his hold and step back. As much as I’m fired up, I know that the best course of action here is to bow my head and let him win.

***

Predictably, Rogue continues to make Bellamy’s life hell, his petty attacks only intensifying as the days go on.

His newfound obsession means that he corners her wherever he goes, and inevitably Phoenix isn’t far behind.

He comes crashing back into my life with his hatred and his goading, deciding to make my life hell again because it suitshim. Maybe he’s grown bored over the past couple of years and that’s why he’s decided to trot out his favorite punching bag for a couple of rounds.

He confronted me again a few days after the milkshake accident, when I’d stepped in to defend Bellamy again and he’d thrown our past in my face.

I’d cracked, hating that he could be so casually cruel with his words and told him we’d said all we had to say to each other. I hadn’t meant it other than as throwaway words, an easy parting jab that I could make to score points.

Seeing how Bellamy fought back against Rogue had inspired me to do the same, at least in my own way.

In baby steps.

I wasn’t going to go toe-to-toe with him like her just yet, but I at least wasn’t going to cower away without standing up for myself in some way. Since then, we’d had a couple more confrontations, including one where I’d lost my cool and told him to go to hell before stalking off.

It’d felt good to give him something to narrow his eyes about and I’d felt his gaze burning a hole into the back of my head since.

I’d once referred to him as an eclipse but maybe I was wrong. Because going from the frozen tundra that was the purgatory he’d exiled me to when he ignored me, to being thrust overnight back into the center of his attention and rage felt like standing directly in front of the sun and asking to be burnt to a crisp.

If over the years I’d managed to accumulate one ounce of self-preservation where he was concerned, I’d lost it and danced my ass merrily out of the shade into the sunlight to be barbecued.

I know it’s foolish, that in the past I could barely tolerate the rage and hatred he directed at me, and that this only ends with me getting my heart broken again by him but, somehow, that’s still the better choice when the alternative is being ignored.

Plus, I’ll keep defending my friend if she needs me. I’m not sure why I have such a hard time standing up for myself when I have no issue doing the same for the people I care about.

At least if he does another terrible thing to me, maybe this time I’ll finally be able to get over him and move on.Which is why when Nera proposes going to a party at Phoenix’s house, I don’t immediately refuse.

Thayer gets Bellamy on board and I organize pickup by the limo service my dad has on standby for me. Before I know it, I’m taking shots in Phoenix’s kitchen wearing a red dress that I borrowed from Nera.

It’s a little morerisquéthan what I usually wear, I’m typically in ‘classy sexy’ attire rather than out here worried that one of my boobs will pop out of the cutouts in this dress, but I let myself be talked into it.

This year is all about trying new things and pushing myself out of my comfort zone.

Out of the wallpaper where Phoenix shoved me two years ago.

The tequila burns my throat and sparks the blood in my veins, giving me the kind of confidence that only alcohol can give and loosening me up.

“Yes girl, shake those hips!” Bellamy yells over the music, putting her hands on my hips and moving with them as they sway to the music. “Red dress, red hair, red lip,” she says, checking things off an imaginary list in the air, “I’m surprised you haven’t been mauled by the boys yet.”

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