10 Things I hate About Her (10 Things #1)

9. Ice-Cream Shoppe

"Oh my god, are you alright?" the girl that stealthily got behind me asked.

I held up a bloody hand and withheld a sarcastic comment. Dana rushed over, wrapped an arm around my shoulders and guided me towards the medical assistant that waited at the end of our bench. The blood began to flood my shirt. And its scent never left my nostrils. Dana grimaced. "That looks like it hurts really bad," she said. "Are you okay?"

"It's more of a dull throb at the moment," I replied in a nasal tone.

The lady that served as our medical officer had me sit down. The way in which she instructed me was calm and professional. I spat the blood onto the grass aware of the gaze of my teammates and Delilah's smirk. I pinched my nose and leaned forward while the medical assistant wiped the excess blood from my face and neck.

Dana watched with a pained expression on her face. "It's not too bad," she said, attempting to comfort me. "You'll be fine in a few."

She gave my hand a small squeeze and went to join the other players on the field.

I could die at that moment; I was absolutely humiliated. If I had paid attention, I wouldn't be in this situation. Damn it all. And damn Naomi for getting into my head any chance she could. If she had slept with Hunter, that was her own fault. If Cassandra sent the photo to everyone, then a thousand curses upon her. I felt frustrated with myself and everyone else. I wanted to scream and punch someone but considered myself better than that. Calm down. Breathe.

The coach asked, "You don't think the other team will score three goals in seven minutes, do ya?"

"No," I said, wanting to hit father as much as the daughter.

He smiled and nodded. "I didn't think so either."

Cassandra was waiting for me in the back parking lot, sitting on the leather seat of my motorcycle, one leg draped over the other. There was a funny taste in my mouth after the incident on the field and I smelled blood everywhere I went. Even out here, far from where the accident took place, blood's scattered particles hung in the air.

Along the perimeter of the parking lot, skinny birch trees blew in the wind and the sun's rays traversed the earth. On any other day I would have wanted to enjoy the beautiful weather. Today, I wanted to go straight to the comforts of my room.

"Did you send the picture?" I asked.

Cassandra looked at me, pushed her cap up so I could see her alluring eyes, and thin wisps of black hair on the forehead I had kissed so many times before. Her face was beautiful even if she had skipped on the makeup. Not wearing makeup made her look less of a goddess and more human. Her eyelids were puffy, her irises lined red. She was imperfect like all the rest of us. I thought I would be angrier after the threat she had sent, but there was nothing bedsides curiosity in place of my prior rage. I squatted in front of her and smiled. "You alright?" I squeezed her knee.

"Why are you like this?" she asked.

"Like what?"

"I don't know... so calm, gentle. Why don't you yell at me and scream? Just do something to show that you care."

The pain in her eyes stirred my compassion. I stood and embraced her passionately. Placing my lips next to her ear, I murmured, "I'm sorry."

"Why did I have to fall for you of all people?" she whispered.

"Because I'm charming."

"I'm serious," she said.

"You were the one who did the falling, not me. You should know."

"Is that so?" she asked then in a softer voice, "I didn't send the picture."

I released her and studied her for a moment. Her head dipped as she wrung her hands on her lap. "I figured as much," I admitted and stroked under her chin. "Cheer up, alright? We can still be friends."

She laughed yet there was no humor in it. "I don't want to be your friend, Val."

"I don't see why not. I've been told that I'm a great friend."

People were starting to make their way through the parking lot so I shoved my hands into my pockets and stood a decent distance away where nothing would be suspected. That caused more pain to be reflected on her features.

"Can't you come out to your parents?" she asked.

I shook my head. "I can't. I'm sorry, but I can't."

"Please." She reached for my hand, but I stepped back, and checked my surroundings to make sure no one could hear us.

"Cass, you're a great, wonderful girl and you deserve someone who can be there for you in ways that I would never be able to."

Cassandra wasn't listening. She said, "I'm sure they'd still love you; I mean you're their daughter. Why do they care who you choose to love?"

"You don't know them like I do." I didn't know how to explain it to her any other way. Yes, I had loved her once- it had been deep and raw. I had craved every inch of her, and the time we spent together was lost in bliss. And then this small voice in the back of my head had asked, 'You do realize that you're using her as a replacement for Naomi? You do know that the love for her isn't as pure as you pretend it to be? You wouldn't die for her like you would for Naomi, so set her free.' I had known telling her that would cause her more pain, and I had used my parents as an excuse. It was somewhat true as my parents were against the homosexual condition.

Cassandra said, "Then we can date in private again?"

I ignored the pressing desire to touch her skin, caress it and said quietly, "You deserve better. Don't do this; don't get hung up on me. I'm not worth it. Trust me, I should know." Cassandra would never be the Naomi I desired. It hurt to consider that I would be responsible for tearing Cass's heart from her chest and squeezing it in a tight fist. It hurt that I had used her for such a long time. It hurt that I still held lingering strings of attachment for her despite knowing that it would only bring the two of us pain.

She shook her head and said, "I think you are worth every second. But I guess I'll try again some other time without threatening you." She flashed a brief smile and then hugged me. I wrapped my arms around her waist and held her, praying that no one would read into the hug and use it to conform rumors about my sexuality. At the same time, I wondered if I would be able to hide this secret any longer.