My gaze was fixed on just one person.
Mr. Zack, who was my enemy. I could feel myself trying to control the anger, the rage that was bubbling right inside of me and threatening to explode at any moment.
The sound of my own voice echoed through the living room. My chest rose and fell fast, my heart beating so loud that I could hear each thud.
No one said a word.
The tension in the room was so obvious, and for a moment I felt I didn't lash out like a kid. But I was indeed a teenager with raging hormones.
Zack didn’t move for a while. I could hear the sound of his breathing and the faint creak of the chair he had knocked over.
Then came that same dry laugh again—low and cruel.
"Is something funny?" I said angrily.
"I still don't understand how you are able to do it. I mean, you
