I slammed the stall door behind me, and threw my face over the toilet bowl. I heaved a few times, trying to relieve myself of the nauseous feeling that rested in the pit of my stomach.
I came back to school, only to discover my life in ruins.
It was a domino effect; breaking up with my boyfriend triggered my new attitude, which launched a disturbance in the natural order of things, causing this disaster. As I slung myself over the toilet seat and whimpered quietly to myself, I couldn't help but wonder if I had done the right thing.
Sure, being with Blake wasn't healthy. That was obvious. But when I was with him, my life was solid and secure. There was no guessing, no surprises, no turn of events. As much as I hated it, I took for granted the peace that came with it. I was in pain, but I could have suffered quietly.
These days, nothing was quite normal. My family was falling to the wayside of disagreement, my once planned academic path was now a blur, and the fear for my life was growing by the day.
Thinking about this more, another question popped up: who was I? No doubt I was breaking out of the shell I had lived in for so long, but was I the person I pretended to be now? Was I as fearless as I looked and acted? Did I really give a damn?
Of course I did. College still meant everything to me, and certainly I was still scared.
So who was I?
Maybe I didn't fit into either shells. Maybe I was somebody else. Maybe I was nobody.
I pulled myself up from the bathroom floor and went to the sink, where I splashed my face over and over again with cold, bone-chilling tap water. I looked at myself in the mirror, as I always did. My hair was still brown, my eyes were still light, and my skin was still fair.
I endlessly searched myself for some outer change that would match the change I felt inside of me. Despite the alteration of my make up and clothes, my physical appearance still looked the same . . . to me at least. It was hopeless, because I knew no matter what, I wasn't going to be satisfied. So I left.
Stumbling out of the bathroom, I ran into a familiar face. His intimidating, piercing blue eyes and tousled blonde hair passed me by as if I was invisible. He was too absorbed in his newest victim who held on his arm - a brunette, wearing a cardigan and skirt - who went by the name of Emily Carter. Like me, she was in the top 10% of the class. I had been replaced. Scoffing, I shook my head and concluded that some people never changed. I only hoped that Emily wouldn't end up suffering a fate similar to mine.
A few minutes later, I ran into another familiar, but more comforting face. Dean threw his arms around me. I held him close, and nuzzled my cheek into his broad chest.
"Are you okay?"
I sniffled, thankful for his sensitive nature. He always knew when something was wrong, and knew when it was best not to ask about it.
"I'll be fine."
He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. "I had a feeling your first day back was going to be rough. I got a pass from class, so I'm all yours for the rest of your free period."
"Thanks Dean," I huffed out. "Wanna go sit outside in the courtyard?"
"Won't you be cold?"
Dean gazed at me with his gorgeous, mysterious eyes, which instantly put me in a good mood. Just being around him made me feel better.
I shook my head. "I've got my leather jacket," I winked. "I'm set."
We traveled through the hallways, hand in hand, until we found one of the doors that led out to the main courtyard. It was deserted and quiet, with only nature as our accompaniment. The grass was coated in a thin frost layer, and the bare trees swayed in the breeze. We parked ourselves in the field, and laid down on our backs, side by side.
Dean turned and lifted his head, kissed my cheek lightly, then leaned and rested on his arms for a bit. I couldn't help but look up at him with glazed, starry eyes. His face was so mesmerizing; his dark eyes, his thick eyebrows, his chiseled jawline, his crimson lips, his scars, and his freckles. I wanted to study and memorize every detail of his beautiful face. It seemed like Dean was doing the same for me, except his eyes never broke the connection with mine.
I laid there peacefully, and enjoyed the perfect moment we were sharing. Not everything between us was perfect, but right now, it felt like it was. Unfortunately, our perfect moment had to end. The bell rang, and we were forced to leave the safety of our sanctuary.
The rest of the day I traveled like a ghost, drifting through the shadows as an unseen bystander. I kept my head bent low, so that my hair would hang and cover my face. I wanted to be invisible, as I had been to Blake just hours before. People still talked about the changed, unruly Riley Jennings, but nobody saw her.
Relief struck when the final bell rang at the end of the day. I joined the stampede, eager to escape this never-ending hell. Dean managed to find me in the crowded lobby, then he swept me away towards the parking lot. He slung his muscular arm around my waist and held me close. As we walked towards his parking spot, another couple blocked our way.
"Look who it is, couple of the year," Blake sneered to his new punching bag. She let out a light cackle, and then snapped her gum. Blake stood tall in his football team jacket, proud and threatening.
"Blake," Dean muttered. "Move."
Blake widened his eyes and clenched his jaw. "Make me." Dean curled his hand into a fist in rage, but later released it. He knew better. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Have you two met my new girlfriend? This is Emily."
This is where I'm brutally reminded that no matter who you are in this school, everybody knows everybody.
"As if we all haven't been going to school together since Kindergarden . . ." I muttered under my breath.
He rolled his eyes, as he pulled her thin body closer to his. "She's next in line for Valedictorian . . . now that you're out of the running," Blake snapped at me.
"Who said I'm out? I'm still in it," I raised my voice.
The couple chuckled as if I had said something funny. "You're kidding, right?"
Dean looked at me, asking me to back off with his eyes. But I couldn't help but ignore him. I may have not be the same person anymore, but my values hadn't changed.
"My GPA is still standing, my curriculum and scores are still as they are, so no, I'm not kidding."
"Right . . ." Blake remarked in the midst of chuckles. He gave Emily a tight squeeze, and a slight push. "Babe, why don't you go wait in the truck? I'll be there in a minute."
Emily kissed his left cheek, leaving a faint red lipstick mark. As she pushed through us, she glared at me with intense, competitive eyes.
"Isn't she great?" Blake rhetorically asked, with sparkling eyes.
"Yeah . . . a real individual," Dean mumbled. Obviously, he picked up on the similarities too.
Blake sighed, like a love sick puppy. But he didn't have either of us fooled.
"Yeah well," he paused briefly. "Don't think I've forgotten about you. It's not over, yet."
With a cackle, he walked away with his hands shoved in his pockets. It was unbelievable how sick and twisted a person could be.
Dean channeled his attention towards his bike. Quickly, his face washed over with panic. He hurried to the side of his motorcycle, and knelt down. His fingers dipped into a pool of a dark, oily substance.
"That bastard . . ." he muttered to himself. His voice grew louder. "That bastard!"
Blake stopped in his tracks, and turned around. He laughed wickedly, and twirled a screw driver with his fingers. Everything after that happened all too quickly. Somewhere in between, Dean lost it. He charged towards Blake, fists at the ready, and socked him. Of course, Blake and his hot temper fought back. A crowd of people swarmed to the sides to watch the fair, ongoing fight. Emily got out of the truck, and screamed. About five minutes in, the security guard came and broke up the quarrel. He pulled them apart, and dragged them inside to the principal's office.
"Look what your scumbag of a boyfriend did," Emily cried in fury.
I gritted my teeth at her. "Oh, don't act like Blake is such a saint. You saw what he did to Dean's bike."
"With good reason," she snapped, tugging at her hair.
"Of course . . ." I turned away, shaking my head. I was done with her. She obviously didn't pick up on the vibe, because she kept going.
"You know, Blake told me everything about you too," she spat with fiery confidence. "How you were intolerable and out of line most of the time, and he tried to help you." She smirked, causing me to growl. I gritted my teeth, and tried to fight back the words I longed to say. They sat like acid on my tongue, burning my entire mouth. Disregarding my cold silence, she went on. "I don't blame him, I would have done the same. But it's different between us."
"I'm sure it is," I hissed sarcastically.
She scoffed a bit, insulted by my mockery. "You don't believe me? Blake loves me, he told me he did. I know it's soon, but it's real. He treats me like a queen, because he loves me. Obviously, he didn't feel that way about you."
Her ignorance was bad before, but it had just reached unreasonable heights. I couldn't restrain myself any longer.
"You need shut the fuck up and back the hell off. You think you're so different, well guess what, you're not. So you better watch out, or you're going to end up just like me."
"What, mentally deranged like you?"
Those words stung, like razor blades pressed against sensitive skin. Not because they were harsh, but because they were true.
"Precisely."
I quickly turned on my heel before she could catch my eyes watering. I stormed off to the back of the parking lot, into a corner where I couldn't be seen or bothered by anyone. I pulled out my cellphone and made a call.
"Dad? I know you're probably at the office, but I need you to pick me up," I sniffed.
My father's voice filled with concern. "Riley, what's wrong? Where's Dean?"
"He's in trouble, Dad," I cried into the phone with shaking hands, unable to hold back the sobs any longer. Something had washed over me at once, as if I was being hit by a wave of uncontrollable, painful emotions.
"Riley, what happened? Where is he? What's going on?" He kept asking, over and over again. But I couldn't form words, I couldn't speak. "Okay, okay, I'm coming to get you. I'll be there soon. Stay where you are at the school. I'll come find you," he finally said.
Time seemed to fly as I waited for my father. Crying my eyes out kept me preoccupied. Why I was so upset . . . I couldn't tell you. Plain and simple, I felt lost in this cold, tortuous world.
My father pulled up in his car just before I was really about to lose it. He pulled me into the tight, comforting, paternal hug I needed, no questions asked.
"Dad . . . it was awful," I sobbed uncontrollably as I pulled away from him.
My father sighed. "Are you ready to tell me what happened?"
I tried. Believe me, I really, really tried. But the task nearly seemed impossible. The explanation was lodged in my dry throat. Luckily, the moment came where I didn't have to speak. Dean and Blake, with the universe between them, exited the school with vexed expressions on their faces. Blake gave Dean one last shove as he headed for his car. Dean shook it off, sat down on the stone wall, and held his head in his hands.
My father and I loaded into his car, and we pulled up to the front of the school.
"Son, get in," my father called out to him. "Let's get you cleaned up."
Dean lifted his heavy head, and peered at us through the tinted car window. I gave him a look, egging him to come. He move slowly, with a painful ache, as he lowered himself into the back seat of the car.
"I'm so sorry, sir," Dean mumbled, as the car engine started.
"Dont apologize, you were doing your job," my father replied. "Now, do you want to tell me what happened? The cat has got my daughter's tongue."
From there, the whole conversation seemed to turn into a never-ending rant. I couldn't even bear to listen to it, because it hurt too much. I felt like I was in the middle of a film, having my whole life narrated by a voice from up above, high in the sky.
"Well . . ." my father cleared his throat after Dean finished. "It looks like we've got some work to do."
I looked at Dean through the rear view mirror. His eyes filled with guilt, sorrow, and panic. Something dark was brewing, and it cast a dark shadow over all of us. We all knew what was about to come, and we could only anticipate and prepare for it.
"Yes sir, we do," Dean replied, in a serious, husky voice.