I stormed into my room, shutting the door with far more force than was necessary. My wrist still tingled from where Ryan had touched it, but I refused to think about that. I refused to think about him.
Instead, I paced, trying to shake off the whole encounter, but my mind kept looping back, picking apart every second of it.
Some tiny part of me felt bad... Maybe I'd been a bit of an asshole. But f**k! He’d bullied me for f*****g years! And now, what?! Was I just supposed to forgive him because he felt bad about it? Because he tried to make some f*****g small talk with me? Because he'd stood up for me and assured his daddy that I wasn't being reckless with my streaming?
No. f**k that. It wasn't my job to soothe his guilty conscience.
Jesus, all I'd done was exist! And between him and Ca
