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Because she’s an overly sensitive little shit like every other slut in this school,I thought.
Seriously, what the fuck did Damian have that I didn’t? He may have been richer, but that also came with a massive ego. He was a dick and treated women like dog shit. At least with me, I’d take her feelings into consideration.
Is that before or after you call her a whore and tell her it’s good her parents are dead so they can’t see her taking dick from anyone and everyone?
“Fuck,” I groaned.
Was this my fault?
No.
It definitely wasn’t. Shecompletelymisunderstood what I tried to say. I liked her the day I met her, yes. I wanted to ask her out, yes. I neverclaimedher though. She wasn’t mine to claim, and it was a bitchy thing to suggest that I did.
Then again, looking at it from her point of view with Damian and me now fighting over her…
No!No. This wasnotmy fault.
All I’d wanted to do was help her figure out her issues. She said there was something about Damian that made her feel free. I wanted to know if it was the danger she was attracted to with him or if she was just losing control of her inhibitions because of stress. I’d been through that myself, and it got me into a lot of issues.
Some people drink too much when they’re stressed.
If someone smokes, they tend to smokemorewhen they’re stressed.
An addict couldn’t go without their drug of choice.
Stress, depression, and anxiety will have a person doing lots of things they normally wouldn’t do if they stumble upon something that relieves the symptoms.Anythingcan be a drug at that point. Even food or sex.
If a lightbulb went off in her head while Damian was touching her, saying, “Here it is! The answer you’re looking for! This is what you need to make you feel better!” then I’d bet it was confusing as fuck. All I’d wanted to do was help her figure it out.
Was it Damian? Because if it was him, there wasn’t much anyone could do. She’d have to stay away from him before a true obsession formed. She’d end up craving him and needing him to take that edge off, and he’d use her any way he could and throw her away any time he felt like it, only to pull her back again when he was bored. I couldn’t stand the thought of that.
If it wasn’t him, and she felt the same thing with me, then maybe it was the sexual attention period. If that was the case, she’d still be at risk of doing some things she’d regret if she started sleeping around with whoever and whenever, but she could also do it safely. Find someone who would take care of her needs, respect her, and would treat her right.
Someone like you, asshole?
I groaned.
No wonder she got so pissed. She had no reason to trust me, and so far, all I’d shown her is how big of a fucking dick I could be to a random guy she thought she saved from me, angrily drag her out of a lunchroom and confront her, then essentially proposition her for sex and call her a whore when she wanted to stop.
Granted, I never called her a whore. I didn’t even mean it like that, but looking back on it, I could understand why she might have thought that.
Maybe she isn’t the overly sensitive shit, after all…
How the hell would I get her back now? How the hell could I possibly make her seeanygood in me after this? On a scale of one to ten, this was straight fucked. It was like a fifteen at best. I’d thrown her dead parents in her face.
My face scrunched up as I leaned forward and scrubbed my hands down my face as I recalled the words that came out of my mouth and the excitement I felt at driving that knife in. I’dwantedto hurt her. I’dlikedit. Now, I just felt sick. I hadn’t changednearlyas much as I thought I had, and I felt disgusted.
“Sofuckingstupid! You’re a goddamn dumbass.”
My eyes wandered up to the door she’d stormed out of. She wasn’t the violent type—I could tell. I knew violent people, and Temperance Wilder wasnoviolent person.
She was, however, someone in the middle of a horrible mental battle no one else could see or understand, dealing with grief I couldn't even begin to fathom, on a hair trigger, and I’d rubbed her face in all of it and tried to drown her in it. If I were her, I’d have attacked me, too.
The funny thing was, she didn’t even go about it violently. She could have beaten my ass, but she didn’t. She only took me to the floor. Maybe because she was so far opposite of me that I just couldn’t imagine thinking that way. I would have eaten the face off someone who said shit like that to me. There would have been nothing left of them after I was done beating them.
My ass was a little sore from the landing, but it was nothing. Maybe she only did it to prove she could. I saw the challenge in her eyes when I told her she wouldn’t be able to get the better of me. Maybe she wanted me to know she truly was better than me—even in that way.
I was the second person in a single day she’d taken to the floor with barely any effort, and both of us were twice her size.Damn, that girl is impressive.