Page 61 of The Casualty of Us
“I know you’re new, but sometimes these things—”
“I—”
“Just happen—”
“Hey, Hayes.”
“Ollie!”
I whirl around with the book clutched firmly between my fingers, bringing it up and slamming it against her face. The loud crunch that comes right before the screaming starts up perfectly pairs with the ringing in my ears, harmonizing in the lobby that everyone is standing still in as the blood begins to dribble from her nose and something loosens inside of me.
Unraveling in blissful relief at the regaining of control.
I blink up at Hayes, finding him standing there with shock playing out across his face. “You know what your real mistake was?”
His nostrils flare, eyes tracking me carefully even with the screams still filling the air. Which is good. Because he needs to pay attention.
“Your mistake was thinking I’m a girl who only wants to be loved.” I wave the book at where Josey’s laid out on the ground, acting like I murdered her or something. “Because that girl…yeah, she probably would just go ahead and forgive you.”
But I’m not her, and we both know it.
Me, always, and him, too late.
Things probably would be easier for me if I could be her.
“Unfortunately for both of us.” I shrug, trying to stop the way that knot in my chest is twisting viciously. “I never will be.”
“What is going on here?!”
The librarian’s piercing screech rips through the lobby, ending the harmony in my head and making everything seem to move at once again.
So I drop the book with a gasp and turn away from him. “Now I’m done.”
Chapter Sixteen
OPHELIA - JANUARY 2013
Apparently,hitting someone and/or hitting someone with a book warrants a trip to the dean’s office. Who would’ve thought it?
Aunt Sutton stares at me over the tips of her fingers from across the desk with her palms pressed together like she’s waiting for me to explain or beg for forgiveness.
Which I could, I really could, it’d probably make things easier for me too…but I won’t.
Because I’m not even a little bit sorry. Not about the act itself.
The fact I finally cracked in front of multiple witnesses and security cameras is a smidge regrettable though.
I let my eyes roll over her spacious office that’s done up in the same style as the rest of the school. Dark green walls and lots of leather and wood. The built-in shelves behind her desk are at least three times the size of mine, though, and I’d probably give up all of my—
“Ophelia,” she finally sighs, regaining my attention in time to see her hands drop to the desk. “You assaulted another student.”
I purse my lips at her terminology and automatically correct her. “Self-defense.”
“Excuse me?” Her brows lift with the question and I cross my arms.
“You have a video of it, right?” I nod at the pretty computer on her desk. “Go ahead and take a look.”
“I have.” She pins me with a reproachful look. “Josey didn’t harm you in any way—”
