Trapped (Bullied Book 4) (Bullied Series)

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Trapped (Bullied Book 4) (Bullied Series) Page 19

by Vera Hollins


  Until you, my mind chipped in, but I didn’t let that treacherous thought sink any deeper into me.

  “That’ll be $11.99,” the guy said as he handed me the pizza.

  I gave him fifteen dollars, coughing. It was the middle of March, but it was cold as if it was February. “Keep the change.”

  He smiled at me. “Thanks. See ya.” He cast a quick glance at Blake, who didn’t move an inch from his spot, and left.

  I gripped the box with the pizza as I wondered what I should do now. Chills rushed down my neck when the cold breeze swirled around me.

  “What’s with this sudden attitude change?” I asked. I still expected him to say this was a prank and I was a fool for believing it.

  “Can I come inside?”

  I gaped at him. He didn’t bulldoze his way in but asked for permission? This was getting more surreal by the second.

  “Why?” I wasn’t going to drop my guard just because he was acting all nice.

  “Because you’re clearly freezing.” He pointed at me, and I looked down my body. I was visibly shivering. “Also, I want to talk to you, and I’d like to do it inside.”

  I’d always wanted Blake to treat me like a human being, but I couldn’t just act like we didn’t have a painful history. I couldn’t be all happy about it, even though my heart rejoiced at him being here.

  “You’ve never cared about what I want, so why should I care about what you want?”

  He scowled, his arms folded over his chest and flexing. “Okay, I get it—you’re getting back at me for everything I’ve done to you, but will you give me just five minutes? That’s all I’m asking for.”

  Another bitter remark was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t say it. For reasons I couldn’t explain to myself, I stepped aside and motioned for him to enter, my gaze on the floor. He strode inside like he owned the place, and I stood mesmerized by the confidence he exuded, drinking in his body clad in a black leather jacket and dark jeans.

  I erupted into a fit of coughing as I joined him in the living room and lowered the pizza on the coffee table. The flicker of appetite I’d had earlier was completely gone. I felt vulnerable because he was seeing me like this. My gaze darted over to the disgusting tower of used tissues on the coffee table, but he didn’t even look in that direction.

  He pointed at the TV screen. “You like House too?”

  My stomach fluttered, and I glanced away. “Yes.”

  “It’s the best show.” I didn’t know what to say, dumbfounded by him.

  He went to the fireplace and stopped to inspect the photos of me with my family on the mantel. I grimaced when his gaze landed on the image of ten-year-old me. I was the fattest then but blissfully ignorant of how much I actually weighed.

  “So? What do you want to talk about?” I asked, hoping he would stop staring at those embarrassing photos and turn around.

  He didn’t. To my mortification, he took the photo of me when I was seven and had just received my Martin from Granny. I was missing a front tooth, but my smile was bright nevertheless as I held the guitar in my hands like I’d found a chest filled with gold. My heart skipped a beat when a small smile tugged at his lips.

  I darted around the coffee table and snatched the photo out of his hand. “Stop.”

  His smile disappeared. “Stop what?”

  “Stop acting like it’s normal for you to just come here out of the blue.”

  He ran his hand through his hair, his gaze moving around the room. “I’m trying to make things right, Jessica.”

  My pulse accelerated at hearing him call me by my name. His eyes met mine and stayed on them, captivating me.

  “Maybe I want to turn over a new leaf,” he said.

  A warm sensation shot through my chest, and I allowed myself to bask in it for a little while. Sarah had said love could empower us when we were at our lowest and illuminate even the darkest of places, and at this moment, I could feel that. I could feel some of the pain that had held my heart hostage beginning to dissolve. I wanted that. I wanted to turn over a new leaf with Blake, but I had to be real. His words sounded too good to be true.

  “And you think you can just snap your fingers and we’ll start anew? Do you have that little respect for me? No, wait—forget about that because you obviously don’t respect me at all. You showed me that the first day of our senior year.”

  He clenched his fists at his sides. “What do you want me to say? I won’t lie to you. Yes, I didn’t respect you. Ever since the day I met you, I felt only hate for you. Do I wish things were different now? Maybe. But back then, I felt there was no alternative for me.”

  I lowered the photo on the mantel with a thud, glaring at him. “But there was an alternative! You could’ve ignored me. Instead, you chose to bully me!” My sore throat closed up on me, protesting against the yelling. I sniffed a few times. It was high time to use a tissue.

  He went to the coffee table and plucked a tissue out of the box. “Here you go.” He offered it to me.

  My cheeks grew scorching red. I grabbed the tissue out of his hand and turned my back to him, refusing to let him see me blow my nose. I could hear him chuckle as I blew it, and I cast a glare at him over my shoulder, still pressing the tissue against my nose.

  “This is not funny,” I said, but because I was squeezing my nose with my tissue, my voice sounded like Bugs Bunny’s, which, I had to admit, sounded too funny.

  He broke out in laughter, and I just stood motionless as I watched him, captivated by it. He was laughing. It was full-on laughter that illuminated his whole face and erased all traces of the ever-present cruelty. I couldn’t stop looking at him.

  Young Blake came to my mind again. His bleeding pain was such a contrast with the smile decorating his face now. What had happened after that eleventh day? How much time had passed until he could laugh freely like this, away from that devastating darkness that was his and Emma’s life in that basement?

  “Your snot is stuck to your nose.” He pointed at it.

  “What?!” I screeched and pressed the tissue back against my nose. He doubled over with laughter, smacking the mantel with the palm of his hand.

  “You’re something else,” he said through his laughter, looking at me with a shine in his eyes that made my knees go weak. “I’m just teasing you.”

  My head began to throb. I sat down on the couch and grabbed a new tissue to blow my nose.

  “Since you obviously can’t resist picking on me, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Besides, my parents will come home soon, and I don’t want them to see you.”

  He straightened himself up and grew serious. “I already told you you’re not a good liar, and it’s only one o’clock. Both of your parents are working, so I find it hard to believe they will return home so early.”

  I leaned my head against the back of the couch, not even bothering to deny it. My high temperature was getting to me.

  He sat down on the other end of the couch, making sure there was enough space between us. I could feel his stare on me, but I refused to look away from the tissue I twisted in my hands on my lap.

  “You didn’t answer,” I said. “What’s with this sudden change?”

  “Maybe I finally saw how much damage I’ve done.”

  I dumped the tissue next to the others on the table and crossed my arms over my chest.

  “As I told you, back then I felt I had no alternative,” he continued. “You brought me a real shitstorm when you came to our school, and I needed you out so I could stay sane. I hoped you would finally have had enough and leave because each time I saw you at school… Each time, I had to relieve something that was destroying me.” He looked away and squeezed his eyes shut.

  His words ripped through me, dousing what little warmth I’d felt in the last few minutes. “You needed me out so you could stay sane? But what about my sanity? You made my life shitty. You destroyed piece after piece of me, making me so small. Do you know how many times I cried myself to sleep or co
uldn’t sleep at all because of you? It was horrible!”

  He stood up and went over to the windows, crossing his arms over his chest. “Then why didn’t you leave?”

  Tears pooled in my eyes as I raised myself from the couch. “I wanted to. So many times, I was so close to leaving. But I couldn’t, and I would’ve hated myself even more if I’d let you chase me away from here.” I closed my eyes briefly to hold back my tears. “And to think you hurt me to make me leave just because you couldn’t handle my presence… It’s awful. You’re awful.”

  His whole form tensed visibly, but he didn’t turn around, standing motionless for a while. He flexed his hands.

  “I know. And I’m sorry.” The words were barely whispered, but they were there, locking me into disbelief.

  I gritted my teeth. “You’re sorry?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is this a trick? You want me to fall for your apology so you can hurt me more later?”

  He turned around to face me, frowning. “What? Of course not. You think I’d tell you how I felt then if it was?”

  I just crossed my arms over my chest, studying his expression for a long moment. It looked sincere enough.

  “I turned what you told me on Friday night over in my mind, and I realized I’ve gone too far. I’m sorry for causing you all that pain. I’m sorry for treating you the way I did. You didn’t deserve it.”

  I didn’t feel his apology, even if it was real. I couldn’t after what he’d just admitted to me.

  “Well, I don’t accept your apology.”

  He scowled. “Why?”

  “Because I don’t feel you’re really sorry, and you’ve gone too far since way back. Since day one, actually. I was even bleeding that day, and it was all because of you. Sticking my finger down my throat because of you is nothing compared to all the messed up things you made me live through. So no, we can’t turn over a new leaf. There’s too much bad blood between us.”

  He clenched his jaw. “You really have to make this hard?”

  I coughed. “I make it hard?”

  “Yes, because I didn’t come here to fight. I came to apologize.”

  I looked away as I drew in a shaky breath, refusing to dwell on the pain in my chest. I wanted to forgive him. I wanted to say we were cool. But I wasn’t ready. It didn’t feel right.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Maybe it’s too late, Blake. Maybe I don’t care about your apology anymore.”

  I didn’t hear him move, but in an instant, he was right in front of me. I gasped when he pulled my chin up and made me look into his tormented eyes, the urge to touch him strong. He was so close to me, and it would have been so easy to just lean into him and seek his embrace.

  “What do you want me to do? Grovel at your feet?”

  I moved my chin out of his grasp. “Yes, Blake. That’s exactly what I want you to do,” I snarled before I could stop myself. “You think one half-assed apology is enough for me to get over everything you’ve done to me?”

  His eyes hardened. “Half-assed apology? What kind of game are you playing?”

  “Game?”

  “You say you like me, but you’re playing hard to get.”

  I frowned at him, hating that my feelings were fully exposed to him. “I’m not playing hard to get! I don’t even want to be with you.”

  The muscle in his jaw flexed.

  “Good,” he said. That one word wasn’t supposed to hurt me, but it did. “Because I’ll never be with you.”

  I recoiled as another nail got hammered into my heart. Of course Blake would never be with me. We would never get together, and it was high time for me to chop off the roots of that sick fantasy. I’d let it grow for too long.

  “I wasn’t expecting you to get over everything, but I thought this could be a start. However, now I see it was a mistake to come here.”

  How much more humiliated could I feel? I went over to the tissue box and grabbed another one as the first tear escaped down my cheek. “Yes, it was.” I was barely able to keep my voice even. “Now, please leave.”

  “Fine. Whatever. I’ll leave you alone. For good.”

  I swallowed hard, more tears pouring out. “Sounds great.”

  His leaving footsteps were the only thing that could be heard until he stopped. I held my breath as I waited, completely still.

  “Just don’t make yourself throw up, okay? Take care of yourself.”

  My heart contracted too painfully. I didn’t say a word. Seconds went by in complete silence, as if he was waiting for me to react, but I didn’t turn around. I didn’t even move. After what seemed like an excruciatingly long time, he left, and only then did I allow myself to move. I dropped down on the couch and burst out in more tears.

  This was good. He was leaving me alone. Perfect.

  Only, I couldn’t feel an ounce of joy.

  Blake stayed true to his word. I returned to school on Thursday, and he acted like I didn’t exist each time we were near each other. I was supposed to be relieved and embrace this new chapter in life where I didn’t have to worry about him, but I kept looking for him, partly because of the habit born from a deep-rooted fear and partly because…because I couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss or the change in his behavior.

  I was the last person who held grudges, always ready to forgive, but when it came to Blake, I wasn’t allowing myself that. Still, these days I had nothing to do but cry and reflect on the harsh words I’d said to him. I cared about his apology. I cared about it a lot, but I was scared he would change his mind and go back to his old ways. Six months of bullying couldn’t be erased that easily with a few soft-spoken words.

  Sarah and I texted each other during English, and I mentioned the kiss and his visit on Monday. She was surprised, to say the least.

  That explains why I haven’t seen him with any girls this week, she texted me.

  My heart palpitated, finding foolish hope in her words.

  He likes you. A lot. Maybe one day he’ll even grow to love you.

  I held back a snort and glanced at Ms. Dawson. Her eyes were on the students in the first row.

  Love me? I don’t think so. He won’t let himself love me, I texted her back.

  And if he did, what would you do?

  My heart contracted hard with longing. I stared at her message for a minute as contrasting feelings fought for dominance in me. Kiss him and lose myself in his strong arms…

  No, no, no, absolutely not.

  Nothing.

  Why?

  I met her brown eyes, which held sympathy for me, and sighed.

  Because he’s a mess and I feel he’s going to hurt me. Just like always.

  She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and made a kissing motion with her lips toward Hayden. A slow smirk spread across his face as he reached with his hand under her desk to squeeze her thigh. I glanced away, blushing. Almost instantly, I imagined Blake doing that exact thing to me…

  My phone vibrated in my hand.

  I get you. You feel it’s better to stay safe than be sorry, right? she wrote.

  My fingers hovered over the screen as I thought about the answer. She messaged me again before I could come up with anything.

  If you ask me, he’s just trying to fight it off.

  I thought about Blake’s words the night we kissed at the party.

  Maybe, but how come you’re so sure about it?

  Because that’s exactly what Hayden did before he confessed to me. He was confused by his new feelings when all he knew was hate, and then he tried to get rid of them.

  Her next text arrived a few seconds later.

  But I don’t think Blake can fight them off.

  Because you can’t win against your heart?

  You can win, but not always. I couldn’t win against mine.

  Do you ever regret it?

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her smile.

  Never. Even these days, when Hayden and I get into a huge fight, I feel we’re a
step closer to mutual recovery because we’re able to learn to communicate better and overcome obstacles one by one.

  Overcoming obstacles one by one… I couldn’t take my mind off her messages for the rest of class, thinking about how I always let my heart lead me. If Sarah hadn’t been able to do anything against her feelings for Hayden back then and she was more rational than me, what could I do? I was in too deep. I’d even watched YouTube videos and read blogs that talked about moving on, but it was like I was trying to build a rocket. I could only hope that once I was gone to college, the distance and time would do the trick.

  Third period was free since the teacher had called in sick at the last minute and they couldn’t find a sub, so I went to the library, thinking I could write the sheet music for my solo there without being disturbed. The school festival was in a week, but I hadn’t gotten to practice my guitar or sing with a sore throat much these last few days. At least I’d been able to plan and compose. I already had a melody in my head, one that just begged to be let out into the world, making me giddy.

  I headed to my locker to retrieve my headphones, intending to use a music app I’d downloaded to create music when I wasn’t home. I passed the gym, and the continuous thumps of a basketball and squeaking sneakers greeted me through the wall. My heart accelerated, associating those sounds with Blake, and I shook my head at my silly reaction. That could be anyone inside, and even if it was Blake, it didn’t matter—

  A cry that sounded like it came from the depths of the person’s soul stopped me short. It was followed by another that was on the verge of a scream, suffusing me with concern. My legs carried me to the gym doors quickly.

  I cracked the door open and peeked inside. Blake was playing basketball alone on the court, and I had to stifle the gasp that yearned to get out. He moved fast across the floor, dribbling aggressively and jump-shooting over and over again. He scored a basket each time.

  The tormented look on his face spurred a bitter feeling in me, and I found myself wishing I could do anything to help that expression disappear. It looked like he was running away from his demons, his every move full of anxiety that took over his body. My mind drifted off to that shocking video.

 

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