Page 75 of Pretty Little Princess

I stare at my phone for several long moments in disbelief.

“Fuck. Fuck!” I scream, railing on my steering wheel with my fist to release the anger building like a volcano inside me.

By the time I’m done blowing off steam, my knuckles are split and bloody, and I breathe heavily. I take a moment to collect myself, sucking in deep, calming lungfuls of air. Then I open my car door and slip my phone into my back pocket.

Reaching across the console, I snatch my school bag from the passenger seat and sling it over my shoulder. At this point, I’m going to be late for class, but I don’t care.Who gives a shit about some pointless grade?I have bigger problems on my mind.

Slamming my door closed, I turn and make my way down the sidewalk onto the Rosehill campus. Dry leaves crackle beneath my feet, and the cold wind helps bring my temperature down. It soothes the ache of my bruised knuckles at the same time, bringing me a small sense of relief.

Though it’s only minutes before class starts, I’m surprised to find Silvia making her way down the sidewalk toward me. My stomach knots as the now-familiar wave of guilt that washes through me.

As if sensing my eyes on her, Silvia looks up, and our eyes meet. She doesn’t say anything to me, reverting back to our old version of interacting in which she barely acknowledges me before averting her eyes.

She steps to the side, ready to give me a wide berth, and I’m sure it’s because she’s still hurt from how I spoke to her on our date this weekend. God, I’d almost lost myself in that kiss.

I fucking love it when she takes control, when she gets bold and demands what she wants.

But my guilt just won’t let me be.

I snapped that night on the riverwalk. My self-loathing lashed back at her, though it shouldn’t have, and once again, I caused her unnecessary pain.

Forcing down my inner turmoil, I step toward Silvia as I call her name.

She flinches, and the motion cuts me to the core, but then she stops and turns to face me.

“Hi,” I start awkwardly, carefully approaching her.

“Hi,” she responds cautiously, eyeing me with suspicion.

God, she looks good in green. It brings out the color in her eyes and makes her mahogany hair almost shine. And with a natural leather Italian jacket and matching knee-high boots, she looks virtually divine.

I know I owe her an apology for my abhorrent behavior, but once again, it feels manipulative, as my mother’s words linger at the back of my mind.It’s your turn to do your part… You need to do this to protect your family.

“Look, I’m sorry for the other night. I… treated you abhorrently,” I start, my eyebrows pressing into a frown.

“It’s fine, Pyotr. I get it,” she says, her tone guarded. “I crossed a line.”

How in the hell can she possibly think this is her fault?As perceptive as Silvia is, she doesn’t seem to see herself clearly. I shake my head, ready to protest, but I don’t know exactly what I want to say.

Her eyes flit toward the art building, and I realize I’ve made her late to class.

“I know you need to go. Just… Idoowe you an explanation. Maybe you’ll let me make it up to you on our date this Saturday?” I offer. Tentative hope laces my voice.

She pauses for a long enough time, and I wonder if she might not turn me down. I wouldn’t blame her. The poor girl probably has whiplash by now from my mood swings.

“Okay,” she says finally, but it doesn’t sound like she has hope of getting the answers she wants.

And that slays me.

Because at Silvia’s core, she’s always maintained an optimism, a resilience that’s astounded me. And now it seems I’ve finally reached its end.

“Okay,” I agree, though my heart sinks.

“I guess I’ll see you then,” she says, offering me a halfhearted wave. Then she turns and flits up the steps, hurrying to get to her class before she misses something.

I watch her go, mesmerized by her feminine figure. She’s switched out her modest summer dresses for sturdy jeans and long sleeves, and though they cover more of her skin, I love the way the fabric hugs her body.

What a fucking wreck am I?I spent so much time taking my anger out on Silvia, and now that I’ve finally obliterated any chance of happiness between us, I can’t seem to get her out of my head. I dream about her and the night we spent together.

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