Page 23 of I Blame the Rival

I curl up in a ball, right there on the uneven concrete, and cry. I cry until there’s no tears left and then I cry some more. My skin starts to itch from the salty residue but my body keeps going. Even when my soul is broken, my body has always kept going.

My breathing starts to come in short bursts, the telltale sign I’m hyperventilating my way to a panic attack, but I don’t care. I don’t belong here.

I don’t belong anywhere.

My purse tumbles to the ground beside me, the contents spilling out in front of my face. The bright yellow tissue hits my blurry gaze and I reach for it, grabbing on to the one thing that keeps me going.

The one person who makes me feel less alone.

Sucking down chunks of air, I start to reign myself back in using Skylar’s calligraphy as a focus point. Gradually, my shoulders stop shaking and the tears run dry. I rub my cheeks to stop the itching and start collecting my things from the ground.

A bitter laugh slips out when I see the colourful romance novel lying on the dirty concrete. I pick it up and make my way back to Ava’s parked car. The reflection of the darkened windows tells me all I need to know about my makeup’s survival,so I do my best to clean up the mess. Giving my semi-decent reflection a sad smile, I make myself comfortable on the ground and open my book.

It might be fictional but at least in this world there are no broken girls.

Skylar

“What happened to you?”

I watch in amusement as Walsh limps his way past the dance floor. His usual charisma is gone and his boyish good looks seem to have vanished along with it.

“The model fucking bagged me.” He snaps his teeth, an unflattering scowl crossing his face, “That bitch lured me in then cock shot me.”

“The only person who lures around here is you.”

“Fuck you, Skylar. Can’t you see I’m in agony here?” Walsh groans and cups his package over his jeans, “I think she broke my dick.”

I shrug, “If you learned how to respect women maybe you’d be walking right now.”

“Would it kill you to be more sympathetic?” He groans again and hunches over, “Shit. I think I need to go to the hospital.”

“The fuck is your problem, Walsh?” A blonde rookie walks by and claps him on the back, “You’re gonna need a mirror if you’re trying to see your asshole.”

Walsh flips off the freshman before looking at me, “I think I need the ER.”

Ignoring his pleas for help, I turn and look back over the crowded bar. It’s getting close to midnight and the students are getting drunker and sloppier by the hour.

“Baby Vin, I’m serious. You need to take me to the ER.”

I flick my eyes back to his pained expression.

“Consider this to be your first lesson of consent.”

He bares his teeth, “If Lacey hadn’t fucked up my body, I would fucking break you. I wouldn't even care that your brother would come for me. Seeing your pathetic head snap back would be worth it.”

My vision darkens as I turn and press a hand against his chest.

"What did you just say?

He laughs, “I said I’d fucking break your weak ass.”

“No. Before that.” My breathing grows shallow, “What did you say her name was?”

“Huh? Oh, Lacey but that’s not the point-

I’m already gone by the time he finishes the threat. Heart pounding out of my chest, I start running through the crowd, searching for the dark-haired girl I saw earlier.Lacey.

My mystery girl.

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