I reached back and slapped him as hard as I could. "What the hell," I seethed, and tried to stand up, only I was dizzy from crying and I had less coordination than an elephant on marijuana so I fell off and hit my head on the locker room bench and scrambled up only to wobble-walk out of the locker room.
And I started running.
Of course, I didn't get that far since my sports abilities just weren't existent.
What the fuck, Matthew? He just tried to kiss me after Taylor broke up with me. It was partly my fault since I kissed him on the cheek, I guess. But still, both of their reactions were just plain idiotic. Ugh, boys.
Actually, now I was mad at both of them, because Taylor didn't give me a chance to explain anything and Matthew was just being a little prick because of his manic state. I still loved him, but right now I needed a break from people more than Kanye needs to stop complimenting himself.
I was in an unfamiliar neighborhood, but I didn't care. I just kept walking. I had my phone on me, and I could always call a limo to pick me up if I was completely lost, which I probably would be since my sense of direction lacked functionality. I just walked and walked for hours until my legs were sore and my heels ached. The sun was slowly sinking into the trees, casting long, irregularly-shaped shadows on the ground.
Instead of worrying about where I was, I decided to go sit in an empty playground. For some reason, the neighborhood was quiet and empty, and I liked it. The swings in the playground were rusted and the red plastic of the seat had faded from sun exposure and looked crummy enough that if I sat on it I'd probably get tetanus, but I decided to take a seat and swing a little since my feet were so tired.
I shut my eyes and breathed in the air, trying to block everything out.
Apparently that worked too well, because the next thing I knew someone clamped their hand over my mouth and eyes and dragged me away.
Just. My. Damn. Luck.