10

“I don’t need a babysitter. Go back to class.” Dane sits opposite me in the waiting space outside the principal's office. He’s stretched out, legs across the floor between us and lounging casually with his head back against the wall behind, as though this is no big deal. He is infuriatingly cool despite his mess of a face and his dad being in there trying to save his ass. The school nurse has seen him, and it’s nothing but minor cuts and bruises, which now sports some sterile strips. What I thought was a burst-out piercing was instead a little cut after it broke out. His eyebrow is swelling, but his piercing is still there.

I can’t believe I worried about this moron and waited with a nervous breath for him to come out and look absolutely fine. He has some bruising around his jaw and eye, but it’s barely anything compared to the mess Greg was in when he left. He had blood all over his collar and shirt. Dane’s bloody nose was gone after he blew it.

“Your dad asked me to sit here while he talks this out in case you need medical attention. He’s worried you have a concussion or some hidden injuries.…. Do you know how close you are to being suspended?” I eyeroll and then raise a haughty brow at him before returning to flicking through my biology textbook that I’m making notes in. Trying my hardest to blank him out.

“You know that won’t happen. He’ll do what he always does: flash cash, promise donations, and perks, and I’ll get a  week of detention.” He exhales heavily, sliding further down in his seat, so his feet cage either side of mine in the small space, and I pull my knees together to avoid touching. Tutting at him for invading my space.

He’s rumpled as usual and slouching. He sounds annoyed that his dad has become so proficient in clearing up his son's bullshit that this has become a nothing scenario. I wish, for once, he would tuck in his shirt, button it up properly and tighten his tie so it didn’t sit in the middle of his chest. He’s so scruffy in a boy band, idol kind of way. His wrists are littered with leather bands, skateboard-Esque bracelets, and a chunky watch he wears on his right.

“You’re lucky it was him they called and not my mom, or this would be going a whole different way. She wouldn't get you out of anything and make you take whatever punishment was owed. What is wrong with you?” Sitting with him gets on my nerves when I feel more uptight about what’s going on in there than he is.

“Nothing is wrong with me… Greg attacked me. I merely defended myself.” He closes his eyes as though to zone me out, and I grit my teeth, scowling and narrowing my eyes at him. My temper riled at his nonchalance.

“You were sleeping with his fiancée….. I think it’s understandable that he might want to beat your ass.”

“He should have done a better job of it then, shouldn’t he?…. Maybe then I would be the one in the ER getting my head stitched and not sitting here listening to you.” He blows out more air, shifts in his seat, and buries his hands in his blazer jacket pockets, still not opening his eyes. His whole aura is saying, ‘go away and leave me be,’ but like it or not, I’ve been appointed watchdog. His dad doesn’t trust him to sit here alone.

“You have no regrets about what you’ve done? Destroying their relationship? Getting into a fight in school and trashing the foyer?” My tone gets sharp, that inner swirling chaos he always triggers in me making me tense all over and have the urge to pound his head into the smooth surface behind him. I don’t know why he always makes me feel this way.

He’s despicable.

Dane sighs as though I’m an irritation in his day and sits bolt upright, pulling his feet back and perches forward to stare me right in the eye. Seemingly deciding that taking me head-on will be the fastest way to shut me up.

“Why should I? Was I dating Greg? Not my relationship to destroy. I owed him no loyalty, and I don’t have a girlfriend or a fiancee….we were not even friends. If he can’t satisfy his woman and she strays, that’s on him… It would have been some other guy if it wasn’t me. Renee’s the one you should be lecturing, little Miss moral high ground. I didn't start the fight, and I didn’t trash the foyer alone. But carry on like always, blaming me for everything…. you’re so like your mom.”

“It’s never anything on you, right? It’s always everyone else and because of other people.” I snort in disgust, hearing only his refusal to accept blame for this. Despising him more for the grossness of what this is all about. Cheating, hurting people. He has no soul.

“That’s not what I said. As usual, you only hear what you wanna hear.” He sighs, tilts his head back, and stares again at the ceiling.  He sneers and sits back, seemingly irritated with me as much as I am at him, and we both fall into silence before a distant ringing distracts his attention. He tilts to the side to listen to the receptionist taking a call in the other room.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I lean sideways to haul it out from my lower pocket, my heart beating a little harder with hope as I fish it out. My stomach somersaults with a flash of excitement that finally, my dad has texted me back. I know he’s been working hard and busy. I have been waiting to hear back from him for a few days about spending the break with him in New York.

I swipe my screen, and my mood dissipates again, like the sinking of a rock in a pond, as Elisa’s name appears at the top of my inbox. I try and hold my expression blank, but pain swells in my chest.

I have taken class notes for you. Hope everything is okay? Xxx

I stare at it for a second, gripping my emotions internally to calm them and slow my rapid heartbeat, and then scroll down to my last texts to my dad. Unread, unresponded to, and it’s been almost forty-eight hours since he read my last one, which too had no reply. My stomach sinks, pushing it out of my head because I don’t want to blame him or be hurt by this, and I slowly switch off the screen and slide it away. Breathing slowly and carefully to curb the instinct to cry.

“What’s gotten you looking so tragic?” Dane’s voice pulls me back to him to see he’s now staring my way, not the ceiling tiles. I breathe out with heavy irritation.

“Nothing,” I reply blankly. “None of your business.”

“Boy you like rejecting you?” He smirks, and I have the urge to kick him. “Realized that would be a life of torture.”

“I have more sense than to chase after a boy. No one in this school is worthy of that attention. Unlike you, I am not interested in dating anyone.” I snap at him, aiming my venom at him directly.

“You know, I have a theory that maybe if you got laid, you wouldn’t be such a cranky bitch all the time. You might learn how to smile.” He winks, slides his hands behind his head, and stretches out again so his feet are back at mine. I know he’s trying to goad me, so I bite my lip to curb a reaction.

“Maybe if you got laid less, you wouldn’t be such an arrogant walking creep.” I snort, but the little gleam and widening smirk tell me he heard me. He’s a sicko who loves our bickering when insults get thrown.