Cruel Kisses (It's Just High School #2) - Thandiwe Mpofu Page 0,17
My head feels heavy, like cotton and rocks were stuffed in there.
“Oh, my baby,” Nicky cries, immediately folding me in her embrace that tightens each second. I can feel her body trembling like she’s cold, sniffling in my hair like she actually has a cold.
“Why are you crying?” I whisper, my voice still hoarse. “What happened?”
When she pulls back though, everything hits me like a flood, the big, violent waves crashing into me with one singular intent. To drown me.
Nancy and John…
The loud, beeping machines.
She was spasming and shaking on the bed.
“Mia, you almost gave me a heart attack,” she cries, her eyes red-rimmed, but it’s the shadow of pain in her eyes that steals my breath away.
“Nicky, what happened?” I croak again, the blank space in my mind too intense for me to handle.
“You passed out,” she cries, tears streaming down her face like an endless river. I can see the sorrow in her eyes as she stares at me. “I think you had an anxiety attack.”
“I have to go,” I murmur, pushing away from the chaise lounge but she pulls me back down.
“Stop, Mia,” she pleads, making confusion run through me.
“No, Nancy!”
She was having a seizure, and she couldn’t breathe. Did I do something? Did I help? I go to get up again, but just like before, Nicky holds me back, her hold surprisingly strong.
“No, Mia, you can’t go there,” she whispers hurriedly.
“No,” I try to shake off her hold, but she only holds on tighter. “Nicky, I need to see her! Let me go, please.”
“Mia, baby,” she starts as she grabs both my hands, looking me dead in the eyes. My heart starts racing as a cold shiver snakes down my spine. “Mia, I need you to focus and listen to me. You can’t go back there.”
“What?” I demand. “Why?”
She doesn’t respond, instead she seems to harden right in front of my eyes. The tears stop falling down her cheeks. The slight tremble in her body stops all together and I feel my stomach lurch, feeling the dread settle in the pity of my stomach.
“Mia, you need to go.”
And there it is.
“What?” I croak, blinking up at her like a cartoon character. “What did you say?”
She doesn’t answer as she gets up hurriedly and moves across the room like a tornado, almost blurring right in front of my eyes.
“You have to get out of here,” she says, moving around the small room. She grabs a backpack, then she starts stuffing things in it. Water bottles are put in there, bands of hundred-dollar bills are put in there. Then she stuffs something that looks like a new passport that I know isn’t mine. My passport has a black leather Prada Saffiano case that covers it. The one Nicky just stuffed in the bag looks new where mine is older.
Where did she get that from?
“Use these documents when you’re far from Palos Verdes,” she says, her voice low and strained like she’s running out of time. “Actually, try to make it out of California.”
Make it out of California?
“What’s happening?” I whisper, my body now trembling as sweat dots my brow. I think I’m going to be sick. “Why are you kicking me out?”
I’ve always known she doesn’t want me, but even after all these years? Is this a replay of when I was born and she threw me away in the trash?
Maybe this is the version where she kicks me out of her lying, conniving, asshole of a fiancé’s house because Nancy…
She doesn’t seem to care that I’m practically marinating in guilt, self-hatred and a kind of pain that I’ve never felt before. My head starts hurting, my vision dims and blurs, but I still manage to follow her figure around the room as she grabs a hoodie from somewhere and stuffs it in the bag as well.
“Throw away your phone or smash it and abandon it with the car. Buy a new phone. One of those old ones that can’t be traced.”
“No…” I whisper, but she doesn’t stop, nor does she waver. She keeps going like a machine, or a monster who wants me out. I want to beg her not to do this. I want to open my mouth and say something, but I can’t. I just sit there, staring at the epic disaster that is my life. “I need to see her.”
She ignores that too. “You parked your car behind the trees, right?” she looks over her shoulder at me but doesn’t look me in the