Page 39 of The Masks We Wear

My head snaps back. “The only reason I won’t is because I don’t have anything else to say, not to mention I don’t speak bitch, so, ya know.”

The nerve in his jaw tics as he clenches it, but other than that, he says nothing, grabbing the remote from his backpack. He clicks a button, and the room illuminates into a golden yellow, similar to when the sun first starts to set.

We wait in the requested silence, neither of us daring to look at the other. While normally I would feel happy surrounded by yellow, its brightness irritates me today. But maybe it’s because I’m having to wait again. Either way, my pulse increases, and I can feel it in my wrists, tapping against the thin skin. It’s annoying as hell. Clenching the charm on my necklace, I pull it back and forth, paying little attention to the sting of it digging into my fingertips.

Finally, the timer goes off, and he jumps right into it. “Hey.”

Making my voice as bored as I can, my hand waves cheerfully. “Hey.”

“How was your day?”

My eyes flash to his, and a smile creeps across my face, widening when he shifts in his seat. “Marvelous. How was your day?”

“Dumb as fuck. How are you feeling?” he continues, keeping his face impassive, but he can’t stop the nerve thumping in his temple.

“Annoyed,” I chirp, honestly. “How are you feeling?”

Spencer’s eyebrows draw together slightly, and his head quirks, but he doesn’t inquire further. All business. Cool, that’s what I wanted anyway.

He clears his throat and mimics my response, “Annoyed. If you could do anything right now, what would you do?”

“Fuck your mouth,” I reply, hoping to get some type of reaction.

I have no earthly idea why it matters so damn much. Why I can’t just let it go and move on. Why after all this time, I still think about that day I climbed up the rose trestle outside his window to have my heart ripped out of my chest.

Because that’s what he left me with—a mangled piece of meat that barely even beats anymore.

Coupled with the occasional beatings from my piece of shit mother and total neglect of my father, he made me the very thing that’s sitting in front of him now. Losing him, the last person who was everything to me… that’s what broke me. It made me realize that the only person that ever truly, really cares about you is yourself. Everyone else is just a good time or collateral damage.

“If you could do anything right now, what would you do?” The burn behind my eyes is strong now, but not enough for me to give in and let him know he still hurts me even when he isn’t doing anything.

It’s just been me, struggling with making him keep a secret and wanting to fuck his brains out, while he hasn’t done anything this entire time. He’s just sat there, taking it all without a word…

Biding his time…

Like he’s just waiting for this thing between us to pass…

Then it hits me.

Spencer hasn’t done anything. He was enrolled almost three months before I even knew he was here, and even that encounter was by chance. There was no way in hell he didn’t know I was here.

Why haven’t I realized this before?

He purposely avoided me.

An anger I haven’t felt in years rears its head, soaking into my blood like a hot toxin, spewing through my body. My hands shake under the table, but I keep my face as calm as I can.

He doesn’t get to win. Not anymore.

He mumbles something about doing research, and I realize it’s now time for the extra part. I clamp my mouth closed, unable to verbally say anything else. The room is suffocating, full of his scent, and I don’t want to breathe it anymore.

When he realizes I have nothing to add, he leans back. “Stop with the bully act, Lily. It looks like shit on you.”

Bile hits the back of my throat. That’s what he thinks I’m doing? Bullying him, and he’s a victim? Like he’s the one that didn’t rip my heart out like a fucking coward.

I scoff, standing, and shoving the heel of my palms on the desk. Rage continues to flood my system, driving it into sensory overload, coating my words in a venom I hope knocks him on his ass.

“Fuck you, Spencer. Fuck you for thinking I care in the slightest about your meek existence. You are the shit beneath my heel that smells so foul, I just throw them away. You think I’m being a bully? I’ll show you what a fucking bully I can be.” I yank my purse up by the straps, whipping it around, so it hits him square in the face and slam the door closed behind me.

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