Denny gives us a look, "She goes to SMHS," he says, shocking me. "So we have probably seen her?" Blake says, looking to the floor. "Her name is Xela, she is the one who punched you in the face the first day." Denny tells us, making Blake's eyes go wide. "A chick punched you?"

"Shut up." I tell him, slightly playfully. Blake laughs, "I would have paid to see that."

Xela

The last thing I wanted to do was go to school. I spent all of Saturday in my room with the door locked, occasionally being threatened to come out by Paul or my mother. Both ended up giving up Saturday night, too drunk or high to care.

But come Sunday, Paul had sobered up and was mad. Mad enough to break my door down, leaving me with an empty doorway and no privacy. My room was directly above the stairs, so I could practically see the kitchen from my room.

The door was broken in a terrible fashion, leaving rigid edges around the frame and wood poking out every few inches.

The rest of Sunday I had to make runs all day for my mom, the threat of a beating hovering in the distance if I said no.

Now it was Monday morning, and I was not excited to go and face Ryder.

The idea of skipping formed in my mind, then instantly made me feel guilty. The thought of Aliza and Penny learning off of books they find in the trash makes me ashamed of even thinking about skipping school.

The second I step outside to start walking, a horn honks and makes me jump. "Need a ride?" Max smiles, Annie next to him. I give them a smile, "Sure" I say, hopping into the back seat, pulling down my Jean shorts when they slightly ride up.

I'm just wearing black jean shorts and a black tank top with a big black sweatshirt over it. Pretty much the same thing as on Friday. It's all I have, besides the torn up stuff.

"How was your weekend?" Annie turns in her seat to face me. I give a weak smile, "Good."

"We need to hang out next weekend, I'm sorry I couldn't this weekend but my parents surprised my sister and I with a trip to the beach!"

My eyes widen, "Annie has her own beach house, it's epic in the summer." Max says.

The rest of the ride is full of talk between mostly Max and Annie. Before I knew it, second period was over. Walking into the class, my eyes met familiar dark ones, making me freeze.

He wasn't even  in this class!

I walk past him, trying to pretend like he doesn't terrify me, and sit in my usual seat in the back. To my dismay, he follows me, sitting right next to me. 

"You aren't in this class." I say, pulling a folder out of my bag.

"I transferred." He responds, looking right at me, even when I try my best to avoid looking in his direction. The class is slowly filling up, but everyone is absorbed in their own conversations.

"I'm sorry about Friday." He says, making me instantly touch my throat with my fingers, tracing the bruise his friend made. It's covered by my hood, but it's there.

I just nod, hoping he will leave me alone.

"Look I've never hurt a woman, and I don't know what happened. That's not something I would ever do. Even when I am an ass, I would never physically hurt you."

His voice sounded genuine, something I've never heard before. He looked vulnerable when he looked at me, like he was truly shocked by what he had done.

I think about how I forgave my mom so much for when she was drunk and said awful things to me, even hitting me when I was really little. I always forgave her, I always told myself she loved me when she was sober, and she was just a different person with alcohol.

I didn't have to forgive Ryder, I didn't have to convince myself he is nice because he isn't. But that doesn't mean he is someone who hurts women. I can tell he is telling me the truth. Despite how scary he is, I know he wouldn't hurt me physically again.

"Okay." I say, making him sit up straighter, shocked at my words. "Okay?"

"I still don't like you." I add, making sure he knows we aren't going to be friends because he apologized.

"Same here, sweetheart." He smiled mischievously before getting up and leaving the room right before the bell rang.

He never transferred.

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