RYOT GRL

Chapter 15

In the two weeks where Hames, Jordan and Castle were off of school we had so many drinks thrown at us by the cheerleaders, it got to the point I started to have to bring extra clothes to school because I would be changing twice throughout the day. Stella was angry for a while after the party, but she eventually got over it. Lillian found a way of sabotaging every single piece of my artwork and that was the only subject I care about. She’s ruining my chances at getting into art school. The Monday they were due to come back I was a nervous wreck I hadn’t seen Castle since the party, and I would be happy if I never saw him again for what he did to me. Stella and Georgina and I decided it would be best for us to meet each other at the front of school on Monday because we feel more confident together, but it makes us a bigger target when they do eventually find us. Monday morning, we band together, each of us sharing a look of uncertainty. I would have taken the day off, but I don’t hide away from anyone, especially not Castle Maddox.

The first place we go to is the lockers and they're waiting for us; half the school is in fact. I see big red letters sprawled over my locker and both Georgina and Stella gasp in horror. I’m guessing it they’ve called me some childish insult and I try to make out the word. I’m not horrified like Stella and Georgina, I’m confused, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. “Can’t you read?”, Lillian’s haughty voice sounds and I’m judging by the red marker in her hand it was her that wrote it out. And standing next to her is Castle. I’ll admit I missed his face and the way his eyes light up when I say something mean and defensive towards him. I’ve had enough of this. They’re all waiting for my reaction, but I’m tired of them. Instead, I take a look at Castle. His eyes are dark and hooded as he stares me down. I know he can be nice, yet he chooses to be the asshole. What they want is a show. For me to cry or yell some sort of insult, but I’m better than that. Instead, I open my locker getting my chemistry book out and slam it shut. I take one last look at Castle, his eyes flashing an unknown emotion, and then I look away. “Let’s go”, I whisper to the girls and we walk head strong. They could pour a mountain of red liquid on me and I wouldn’t care. It’s why I wear black and layer myself in makeup so no one can hurt me, because they can never see the real me.

“Did you see their faces?”, Georgina hums and I nod. “They wanted me to fight”.

“They deserved to be expelled for their behaviour”, Stella pipes up. “They deserve more than that”, I say; my eyes are forlorn. We part ways since I have English next, and I can’t skip another lesson. I walk in, Castle’s already there but for once it’s not his presence that’s putting me on edge. We have an essay today and since the teacher thinks I’ve read all the books; I’ll have to write. I avoid Castle eyes. I hear him whispering to me and kicking my chair, but I have more pressing things to worry about. “I hope you’ve all studied for the essay”, Mrs Janie’s muses and I feel my breath hitched in my throat.

“You have until the bell”, she says as she hands out paper one landing on my desk. I grip my pen, my hands shaking. I look around and everyone seems to be scribbling something down and I’m the only one that’s looking around like I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve been in this situation too many times and every time is worse than the last. Thinking that one day someone will find out my secret. The only way I have to protect myself is refusing to do it. I sigh, screwing up the piece of paper and throwing it on the teacher’s desk, who looks up from her book perplexed. “Dodo?”, she says looking at the thrown paper. “I’m not doing it”, I say, and she frowns heavily. “You’re graded on these essays”, she remarks. “Just write what you can”, and I’ve had enough. This teacher is too nice. I kick my desk, making her jump. “I don’t care”, I sneer and grab my bag walking out, head held high, scowling face. It’s the only way I know how to protect myself.

I go and sit by on bleachers needing to clear my head, when I spot the familiar swagger on a boy coming towards me. He sits down next to me. “Stalking much”, I murmur, and he smirks. “Nice show back in English”, he praises, and I immediately scowl at the mention of it. “So, you came here to gloat”, I remark, and he raises his shoulders, tense. “You could just tell her you struggle with writing essays”, he suggests, and I stand up, wondering why I’m even entertaining with this conversation with a boy that only seems to care about me when his friends aren’t around. He grabs my hand. “Dodo wait”, he mumbles and stops me.

“No. You don’t get to act like you care one minute and bully me the next”, I demand, and he drops my hand. “It’s not like that”, he says, his voice quiet. I sit down. “Then what’s it like”, I retort harshly. He shrugs his shoulders. “You ever heard the saying you have to be cruel to be kind”, he explains, and I roll my eyes. “That’s a pathetic excuse and so are you”, I hurry down from the bleachers. He follows me, grabbing my arms and getting dangerously close, his eyes lingering on my lips. “Don’t even think about”, I say but my voice is lost and his eyes flicker to them. “I can’t figure you out”, he whispers.

“You’re so angry and defensive”.

“I’m angry”, I retort. He ignores me. “You say you don’t like me, but your body responds to me so well”, and he’s telling the truth, my skin is tingling from the contact and he’s barely touching me. “You’re delusional”, I mutter defensively. “You keep running away from me”, he whispers. “You do horrible things to make me run away”, I say. “I want to help you, but you infuriate me so much”, he says gentle, and I go to move but he pulls me arm back until we’re nose to nose.

“You’re invading my every thought and there’s nothing I can do about it”, he says, and everything starts to fall into place. He’s horrible to me because he hates how I make him feel and I run away because I hate how he makes me feel. It’s a recipe for disaster. “Then we should leave each other alone”, I demand, the tone in my voice leaving no room for interrogation and he drops my arm. “Good”, he seethes and walks off with his hands in his pockets. I stand catching my breathe that I didn’t even realising I was holding. He just admitted he liked me in not so many words, the first person ever to like me. But he doesn’t know me, and he can’t. I have to protect my secret. I’ll do anything. It means it’s time for me to leave.