Teeth marks.
They weren’t as deep as what Harrison had done in the past but . . . still. Phil kept a hoodie on since my folks would definitely notice the ugly bruises and kept himself scarce in the hopes that they wouldn’t pay him too much attention. Dinner went off without a hitch and somehow I got my stupid DVD player to work so there was hope for some background noise.
When we were back in my bedroom, I managed to put a movie on and shifted about, looking at him, trying not to stare at his neck. It’s just . . . I felt like s**t.
I was angry.
Annoyed.
Talking about that cow always pisses me off and for him to admit that he liked her . . . I just snapped, I guess. Lost my temper.
Now he was avoiding me, nose in his book. Wouldn’t even look at me.
I
