Queen Bee Syndrome

Chapter 9: Thanks Mr Edwards or Thanks Nash?

Have you ever been so angry that your head hurt, and your body ached and you could almost feel the steam emitting from your ears? Because that’s how I felt after Nash tricked me like that.

Sure, to some it would seem like an overreaction. Why let one little thing bother me so much? Well, I let it bother me so much because it’s never happened to me before. I’d never been manipulated and controlled like that, and it was horrible. I was the one always in control, always manipulating the situation. But, back in that supply closet with Nash, he was the dominant and I had been powerless. I hated that.

Anger radiated from me as I stormed through the school hallway. I had originally intended on finding that cocky piece of shit and ripping him a new one, but instead, my body pushed me towards the exit of the building. I stomped outside into the cool air and sucked in a deep breath. Nope, didn’t help. It didn’t help at all.

I quickly stalked towards the parking lot, not a single rational thought going through my head. Actually, there wasn’t any comprehensible thoughts going through my head. I just felt this need to run, to run away until I forgot about it and everything went back to normal.

I reached my car, and dug my hands into the pockets of my shorts to get my keys, only to realise they weren’t there. And I had left my bag inside the school building. Rather than biting my tongue and going to retrieve my things, I let my rage get the better of me and I started beating my fists against my car.  I screamed over and over again as I did so, ignoring the seering pain that was spreading up my arms from the force I was putting into each punch.

After a few minutes of letting my frustration out on my car, I turned around and placed my back against it and slid onto the cold ground. I then let the tears fall.

It was ridiculous how upset I was over this. It was one incident, with one boy. One stupid boy who I hated.

It could have been because I didn’t want to lose face, or because I didn’t want to sleep with Nash, or anything for that matter. I was upset and angry because of this whole situation that I had gotten myself into.

My face had been buried in my hands when a voice spoke to me, “Jolie? Are you alright?”

I looked up through blurry eyes at a male figure standing over me. I wiped the tears from my eyes, and focused on the person.

"Mr Edwards?" I sniffled, confused as to why he was here.

"What happened? Are you okay?" He asked, kneeling down in front of me, concern lacing his voice. I suddenly felt very self-conscious. I probably looked like a hysterical mess.

"I’m f-fine," I told him, unable to prevent myself from stuttering. I wiped my face with my hands, in the faintest hope that it would make me feel better.

"You’re clearly not fine," He said, shaking his head, "What happened?"

"It’s nothing," I told him, "It’s stupid, really. I don’t want to bother you."

"You’re not bothering me, Jolie," He sighed, "I just want to know if you’re alright."

I didn’t know how to respond. I felt very vulnerable. I mean, he’d just seen me crying like a crazy person, and now he seemed worried about me. I didn’t know if I liked that or not.

"Honestly, Mr Edwards, I’m fine," I said, trying to compose myself. I pulled myself up off the ground and Mr Edwards followed suit.

"Your face says otherwise."

I felt like rolling my eyes at him, but refrained. Didn’t he get it? I did not want to talk to him! I was about to tell him this, when a thought came to me. Maybe I could use this to my advantage.