Today could not have gone by any slower.
After Christopher and I's conversation, I wanted nothing more than to climb under a rock and forget that the past few days ever existed. But instead, I picked myself up by my bootstraps and persevered because things were going to get better, right?
The entire day I could feel everyone's eyes on me, and Melanie did nothing but add fuel to the fire. She made sure to inform everyone who was unaware of what happened not only between Derrick and I, but between me and Christopher as well. Before the end of the day, multiple rumors that I had leaked the photos myself to capture Christopher's attention surfaced.
I wanted to be angry at Melanie so badly, but I couldn't. I couldn't feel anything at all. From everything that I had been through, I had just gone completely numb.
Somehow, the feeling was comforting. The stares aimed at me might has well have not existed. My mind was blank and so were my emotions. Some may say that it is an unhealthy way to cope, but I would take this over the constant ache of my heart breaking any day.
Throughout the day I felt Sam get more and more worried for me, but I couldn't do anything to reassure her that I was okay, because, I wasn't. I don't think that I will ever be okay, and that thought alone frightened me to no end. I felt like a broken glass doll, shattered into a million pieces. No matter how hard I tried, I was irreparably damaged.
When I got home, I went straight to my room, and I haven't left since. I couldn't face anyone right now, especially not Scott. At first, I was holding out hope that he didn't find out about the pictures, but after today, the chances were slim to none.
Not only was I too mad to see him after knowing that he knew that Christopher was using me and didn't tell me, but I was ashamed. Ashamed that somehow his innocent vision that he had of me was broken. I was afraid of how disgusted he would be about me. A knock on my door interrupted my thoughts.
"Go away," I groaned, pressing my head into my pillow. The door opened anyway despite my request. Scott crept into my room slowly, as if he was walking on eggshells. He might as well have been.
"Are you okay Brielle?" he asked, sitting down beside me. I sat up from my current fetal position, meeting him face to face. "Please Scott, just go away."
Once again, he ignored me. "Look, I know that you're still mad at me, but I heard about what happened."
I closed my eyes, rubbing at my temples. He knew. "I'm fine Scott. Now please, leave." I clipped.
He scoffed. "BS. I know you. Now tell me how you truly feel or else I'm not leaving this room." He leaned back on his arms, getting comfortable. "I can wait all day."
I contemplated yelling at him to leave, but deep down I realized that I would like to talk to him. I cared about what he thought of me, and what hurt the most out of the entire situation is my fear of what he would think of me. I also needed to know why he hid the information about Christopher from me if I was ever going to move on.
After a huge sigh, I finally opened up. "I feel a little weird,"' I guessed. "Like I'm constantly exposed in a way."
He nodded his head, seeming to understand what I meant. "I get that, I would feel that way too."
It felt good to know that he understood how I felt. "I just feel really ashamed and embarrassed that I took those pictures." I paused, contemplating on if I should include the next part. After a moment's hesitation, I added it in.
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Dancing With The Player | ✓Teen Fiction
When Brielle's dance instructor gets mad at her for missing yet another rehearsal, she gives Brielle an ultimatum: lose her solo that she needs to get into Julliard, or teach Christopher Russel, the school's quarterback, ballet in two months. With...