[High school romance]
Bad boy x bad girl
Stella Max is a bad girl. She doesn't have hope anymore after her mom left her, commiting suicide.
Michael Henson is a bad boy. He's father is busy, rich, famous attorney and he wants Michael to become one. B...
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When I open my eyes, they're burning. I can't keep them open, so I close them again. I must've been crying last night. Last night. What happened last night? I quickly jump out of bed. The only thing that I remember is someone put me in bed, covering my naked body with a blanket, whispering soft words to me. Okay, sleep now.
Who was that?
I see unfamiliar clothes on me. Whose clothes are these? It looks like Chloe's or Maya's. But Maya would never help me. She would leave me to die. Sad but true. But Chloe... I don't know. She looks like an innocent girl, but... Only looks like her. Like they say look can fool. And this phrase is like made for these two girls.
An idea of them seeing me broken and naked on the floor, crying breaks me even more. That would be so embarrassing. Them seeing me in my worst. I don't like either of them. And I certainly don't want them to know my secret. My dark secret. A secret that is breaking me. A secret that actually already broke me, but I manage to pretend that I'm still okay. For how long I wonder?
I stand still thinking and making theories of who that person who helped me last night could be, and just when I wanted to put my hand on the knob, it opens startling me.
"You okay? I didn't know you woke up", the girl I don't expect to be here says, placing a tray full of food on my bed.
I frown and look at her. What? Her? This is not happening.
"Oh, sorry for putting clothes on you, but..." I realize I'm standing eyes wide open in shock in front of her.
"I was naked. I know." I frown, even more, remembering the last night. I'm embarrassed. She saw me vulnerable. Broken. She steps closer to me.
"Look", she says looking at her feet. "Don't be embarrassed." She looks at me, her eyes don't hold anything else, but understanding.
"I'm not." I sit on the bed, crossing my arms, defending myself, because I feel like the walls around me are breaking, revealing the real me. Broken me. She sits next to me.
"I know what happened." I stay silent. Of course, she fucking knows. "And I know how you're feeling."
"You don't! ", I snap, on the edge of bursting into tears. She takes my hand.
"Yes, I do. It happened to me, too." She bows her head. I look at her frowning, confused. It did?
"I'm sorry", I say after a long pause. "Every single one of them is bastard", I hiss, venom clear in my voice.
"They are", she agrees. "Except this bastard is my dad", she says, her lips trembling.
I shake my head in disbelief. "Why? I don't understand why?" She embraces me, and I realize I was crying. Again. I don't even know how I still have enough tears to cry. To break. Like I already haven't.
"I don't know", she sobs, crying, too. We sit like that, two broken raped girls crying over their shattered life.
