If Looks Could Kill - Vance Hopper

eleven

"No," I breathe.

I stalk towards him and slap him hard across the face. His head twists sharply to the side and he stays that way, not looking at me.

I can hear my heavy breathing and my heart beating against my chest. I'm so angry.

"We start tutoring on Monday, and this is not how it's gonna go. You hear me? Absolutely not."

He stays silent, not moving or speaking. Although he's completely still, his fists and jaw are clenched. His knuckles are turning white and his hands are shaking. He's mumbling something under his breath.

"What the fuck was that Vance?!" I'm yelling now. "You seriously hurt him, do you understand that?! What'd he do to deserve that, huh?!"

"Why are you defending him?" He asks, quietly. His eyes are wild with quiet rage.

I gape at him, now trembling with anger.

"Why am I defending him?!" I shout, throwing my arms up in the air. "Why am I defending him?! Good fucking question."

I poke my finger at his chest. He meets my eyes but that just frustrates me even more. "You... broke his ribs. You broke his ribs, Vance. Just like Jeremy's. He was spitting blood. You hurt him."

"It doesn't matter. You don't need Robin. You have other friends."

I scoff and stare at him in disbelief. "Who the fuck are you to say who my friends are and which ones aren't."

His stare turns colder and harder—now, more of a glare.

"No, seriously, Vance. I fucking mean it! Answer me! Who the fuck—!"

He's standing up now, fists absolutely shaking like they're going to explode and jaw clenched so hard it seems he's about to grind his teeth down to his gums.

"Because you only just met him a few days ago and you're already smitten with him! I have wanted to talk to you since I was in the seventh fucking grade! Can't you fucking see that?!" He shouts, spit flying in my face. For a moment, his eyes flash with something I don't recognize, at least not in him. His voice softens but stays loud. "Why can't you treat me the way that you treat him?!"

His voice breaks when he says the word him.

I scream in frustration. "Are you delusional?!" I shout. "He wasn't a little bitch. Not like you apparently were. He grew balls and came up to me and started talking to me. If you would've just taken out your fucking tampon and done the same, we would've met before!"

I take a step back so that our faces aren't so close because it makes me nervous and makes my voice ever so slightly quieter.

"Grow some balls?! I was thirteen!" He roars. He's so loud that the house seems to shake but I keep going.

"And the fuck do you mean why don't I treat you the same way that I do him?! You treat me like shit! Do you ever hear me complaining?! No! This is not what a friendship should be like, Vanc—"

"Can't you see that I don't want us to have just a motherfucking friendship?!" He screams over me. "FUCK, I WANT MORE THAN THAT, ANNA."

His voice is so loud my ears hurt.

My breaths are loud, ragged and quick.

What?

We stare at each other for a moment, him trying to figure out what I'm thinking while I'm trying to find more words— because what?!

The anger in his face is gone, now he just looks taken aback. Regretful.

I hear the front door open downstairs and my head turns away from him for one second to face the one in my room.

"Whatever," he mumbles hoarsely when I don't say anything. He pushes past me to the window. "I don't even know why I came here."

I watch him leave and then I walk to my window to watch him disappear into the darkening sky outside.

"Fuck!" I shout and draw my curtains closed. He is so confusing and irritating and—

My door swings open.

"Where'd he go?" Jeremy asks, voice hard and eyes angry.

Are you fucking kidding me? I can only deal with one crisis at a time.

"What?"

"Where. Did. He. Go?" He throws my closet doors open so hard that they nearly leave dents in the walls.

"Who?" I ask, shifting my weight. I probably still look incredibly frustrated but what can I do about that?

"Vance Hopper. Where is he? I could hear him all the way down the fucking street. Where is he?" He asks again.

I scoff and shake my head. "He'd beat the living shit out of you, again, if you even want anywhere within five feet of him. At least, without me to get him to get him the fuck away."

"I'm gonna run him over the next time I see him on the street, I swear to god."

Then Jeremy stalks out, slamming the door behind him.

I stand there, in the center of my room, thinking over everything. Mostly, what Vance said.

Later, when the moon is visible and the sky is pitch black, I can hear Jeremy and Gale's voices downstairs. They're talking about Vanesa, nothing that has to do with me, so I don't listen.

I lay in bed, wide awake. Gale will probably spend the night as he so often does. He's lost interest in me, so I don't mind his presence as much.

The house is quiet and the clock reads 150am. The wind outside is hard against the walls and it makes a weird groaning noise.

I can't sleep.

Not at all.

I pull on my coat and boots and climb out of the window, not wanting to wake up Jeremy and Gale by using the front door.

I just walk around, mostly breathing in the cold night air and hearing the fallen leaves crunch underneath my shoes. I make my way into town, hoping to check out some clothing stores or something. Something to help me get my mind straight.

These thoughts I'm having.

About Vance.

They're not okay.

They cannot be okay. Vance is horrible. He's mean and rude and ungrateful and disrespectful and...

and standing right in front of me as I turn a corner.

"What are you doing out so late?" The words come out automatically and I almost forget about our fight just moments earlier.

His eyes are hard and he looks angry. He looks angry and sad? His hair is tied back loosely and he has a black zip-up over a white T-Shirt. They're light-layers for autumn. He must be freezing.

He stays silent, just looking at my face as if it's the first time he's seen it in years. "I always am. I didn't expect you to be here." His words are quiet and he avoids my gaze.

"I just... couldn't sleep."

He looks at my eyes. "Yeah. Me neither."

I take in a breath. "Vance—"

"See you around, Anna," he mumbles and pushes past me.

"No."

I grasp his arm and pull him back. Real shock crosses his face but I hardly notice. I slap him hard across his stupid, perfect face and then I—

—and then I kiss him.

A/N SRY IF THIS WAS A LITTLE RUSHED IVE BEEN SO ANNOYED WIT SCHOOL N GIRLS N MY FRIENDS N PLANS N IT JUS SUCKS SM SM.

word count: 1226