Untouchable

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Ophelia and Olivia's new relationship bliss lasted all of four days.
Because of a holiday, they had a four day weekend, and it was spent painting the sun room with Ophelia's father, holding hands, and taking walks before giving up under the suns relentless heat and calling it a day with a glass of ice water.

Going back to school should have been like any other day, except they were going to go together. Hand in hand, silently declaring they weren't scared. Olivia readjusted her backpack on her shoulder nervously and Ophelia squeezed her hand encouragingly. Together, the pushed open the doors and walked down the hall toward their lockers.

A couple jocks hooted at them; Ophelia caught Ryan raising an eyebrow in surprise.
There were stares, there were whispers, but they held on to each other and ignored them.
All that mattered was their happiness. Pulling out a science book from her locker, Olivia ground her teeth at a graying voice that shrieked, "What. The. Fuck."

The girls turned to find Emily and the gang, some snickering, others visibly disgusted. Olivia rolled her shoulder back while Ophelia lifted her chin, both ready for a fight.

"Do you need something?" Olivia asked calmly. 

"Maybe some fucking answers. Did you lie to me at the party? You're a fucking lesbo?"

"So what if I like girls? Why is that something to be so fucked up over?"

Emily crossed her arms. "What about tormenting her? Now you're fucking dating her?"

"I never should have caved but yes, I only did that to hide that I'm gay. It was wrong of me."
Olivia looked around and cupped her hands around her mouth. "Hear that?" She called. "I'm gay!"

Emily ignored her and turned her attention to Ophelia. "So what, do you have an abuse kink? You fall for your bully? Aw," she snickered. "Do you get it from your daddy? Does he hurt you? Maybe that's why you don't have a mom, because she left you-" Emily's taunt was cut short as Ophelia pulled back her arm and slammed her fist into Emily's face.

  Emily reeled and screamed in pain, hands clutching her face and shaking at the blood on them from her nose. Everybody's mouths dropped and Olivia gasped. Ophelia took a step and rested on one knee next to Emily.

"Don't ever talk about my fucking dad," she hissed in her ear.

The bell rang and the students scattered while Emily scuttled to the closest bathroom like an injured snake returning to the grass.

"I really don't think that was a good idea but that was amazing," Olivia said. "I didn't take you for the violent type."

Ophelia shook out her hands and shrugged. "I'm not. I'm just defensive."

They split and headed for their separate classes. Ophelia barely made it to her seat before her name was called over the intercom to the office. She sighed heavily and gathered up her books, making her way to the principals office.


Mr. Devitt was a kind man, somewhere in his mid forties, who truly loved his job. With two sons and one daughter, he and his wife had their hands full, but he never saw it as too much. He saw it as just enough and often found himself rambling on about his family to the school staff members.
 They never corrected him when he told them the same stories he had last week. Instead, they enjoyed his enthusiasm and smiled at each other behind his back, sometimes amused that he took his job almost as seriously as he did his family.

Ophelia found Emily slumped in a chair in front of his desk with a pack of ice to her face.
She rolled her eyes as Mr. Devitt gestured for Ophelia to take a seat. He scooted into his desk and laced his fingers together.

Love, Oliviaحيث تعيش القصص. اكتشف الآن