Rivals - Charles Leclerc

Let's not

Chapter 13

Ava's POV

"What the hell, Marisa?!" I exclaimed, my voice sharp with frustration. "Why the hell did you leave me?!"

Marisa looked up, her brows furrowed in confusion. "I thought you had already left," she replied so casually, her tone defensive. "You've done that before, you know."

My frustration boiled over, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. "I was fucking trapped in that bar, Marisa. I was surrounded by paparazzi and couldn't get out!" I snapped. "I tried calling you like a million times, but you never thought to maybe...I don't know...call me back?"

Marisa's expression softened, a look of guilt crossing her features. "I'm sorry, Ava," she said, her voice filled with remorse. "My phone died, and I didn't realize..."

I shook my head, my anger still bubbling. "You know who I had to call to come and get me?" I demanded, my voice raising unconsciously. "Charles!"

Marisa's eyes widened in surprise, disbelief evident in her expression. "Charles?" she repeated. "You called Charles? Of all people...Charles?"

I felt a surge of irritation at the way that Marisa said his name, feeling protective. "Yes, Marisa, Charles," I replied. "And you know what, at least he fucking showed up to help,"

Marisa's eyes narrowed, her lips twisting into a sneer. "Oh okay, I see how it is. You always were the fucking victim right?" she spat, her words cutting like a knife. "No wonder your parents couldn't stand you."

I recoiled at the venom in Marisa's words, my heart pounding with shock and hurt. "How fucking dare you," I whispered, my voice trembling with anger.

But Marisa's expression remained cold and unyielding. "It's true isn't it?" she taunted, her voice dripping with malice. "They never do show up to any of your races, do they? But do you know who fucking does? Me?! Every single goddamn one! And you know what, I don't blame them. Because there are better things to do than watch a disappointed of a daughter fail over and over again."

My fists clenched harder at my sides, my nails digging into the palms of my hands as I fought to hold back tears. "Shut up, Marisa," I hissed, my voice barely above a whisper.

But she only laughed, a cruel, mocking sound that echoed through the room. "Face it, Ava. I'm all you got," she sneered. "Without me, you're all alone."

My eyes blazed with fury, my chest heaving with anger as I tried to control myself. "Fuck you, Marisa," I screamed. "Without me, you wouldn't be living here. Without me, you would be stuck living in that ratty old town we used to call home. Without me, nobody would give a shit who you were."

Marisa flinched at my outburst, her eyes widening in surprise at the porosity of what I said. But she wasn't deterred. "You think you know everything about me, but you don't know a damn thing!" she spat. "You're just a selfish heartless bitch who doesn't care about anyone but herself."

The words hung heavy in the air between us, the tension cracking like a knife. I thought of all the other things that I could say back, fighting every urge to cut her as deep as she cut me. But then, I just couldn't. I could never say that to a friend, and I wasn't going to stoop to her level. And then, without another word, I turned around and left, leaving her standing alone in silence.

As I made my way down the hallway, I felt adrenaline coursing through my veins, my heart pouting with intensity. I couldn't believe that Marisa had stooped so low, and couldn't fathom how someone she had considered a friend could be so cruel.