Bitter Kisses (It's Just High School #3) - Thandiwe Mpofu Page 0,19

to hide from Nancy when she banned me from reading pretty steamy novels that’s he said I was too young to understand. Nancy… God, I miss her so freaking much.

But now, she’s just another gaping hole in my chest and it doesn’t help that her sister and I are back in my childhood home which has a lot of fucking untold history roaming the halls.

“Sure,” I murmur, watching her with flat eyes.

I’m not comfortable with her seeing the depths of the agony in me or the sadness that has shredded my soul to nothing.

“Good morning, did you sleep well?” Nicky asks softly, carefully, like approaching a wounded animal. “How are you today?”

“I’m fine,” I mutter, pulling my hair into a high ponytail.

For the first time ever, I’m grateful that Clintwood Academy has us wearing some gaudy, drab uniforms. I’ll just blend in with everyone else.

But who am I kidding, everyone will be talking about me, hating me, staring at me. I bet Kristine is happy wherever her pregnant ass is right now.

“Will you be joining any social clubs this year?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

Silence.

“Will you be going back for cheerleading?” she asks with enthusiasm.

“No.”

“Uh, all right then,” she mumbles. “Your ballet teacher has been calling almost every day…”

“I’m not a dancer!” I snap. A heavier silence falls between us this time. “Not anymore.”

She regards me with a hopeless look, like a mother who doesn’t know how to salve the hurt and pain her child is going through. Honestly, I don’t need her to do anything either.

“Maybe you just need time…”

“I burned them all,” I announce, opening the part of my closet I dedicated to my ballet shit. There’s nothing but a large, gaping sad space now. Nicky silently gasps.

“What do you mean you burned it all?”

“Last night, the fire I lit in the study,” I mutter.

“You said you were feeling cold, I just assumed you wanted to…”

“To burn it all.”

Julian had the right idea when he burned Nancy’s prima ballerina dress all those months ago. God, I hated him so much back then, but he was right. Nothing matters anymore. I was rejected in Paris. Nancy is dead and well, I don’t give a damn anyway.

“Oh Mia,” she whispers behind me, concern dripping in each word. Suddenly, I’m uncomfortable again, wanting the earth to open up and swallow me. I can’t take her emotional rollercoaster right now. Especially when mine is so fucked up “Talk to me, baby girl.”

I can feel her tumultuous stare on me, the concern in her eyes intensifying the longer I stay silent.

Then she glanced down at my wrists. A sharp pang sears through my heart, making me uncomfortable as flashbacks come to mind. God…

“There’s really nothing to talk about,” I snap, quickly doing up my wrists, not giving her another glance.

“Maybe but are you sure you’re all right, sweetheart?” Nicky says softly, stepping closer to her.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Mia, it’s okay to admit that you can’t take on everything that’s hurled at you. You’re allowed to take time out and regroup.”

“I said I’m fine,” I growl. “Please accept that and let it go.”

She doesn’t let it go.

“I know the past couple of weeks have been a nightmare. What with the shitty media coverage you’ve been getting, and I know you wanted to see Jul—”

I hiss.

The sound is so abrupt, so vicious and so out of place, we both freeze.

Almost immediately, mortification colors my cheeks. I feel like I’m dying painfully, shocked by the sound I just made. Tears sting my eyes and I turn away, hiding my face with my hair.

What I just did was wrong, but I’m even more horrified by the reason why I hissed to begin with, and it has nothing to do with her.

Hearing his name spoken out loud feels like a major personal and emotional violation that I can’t handle, and yet, I whisper his name like a litany in the dead of night when I’m crying my eyes out at his betrayal.

His name is constantly on my mind and yet still, I can’t handle hearing it spoken by somebody else.

It’s almost like he’s everywhere except where I want him to be. With me.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to…” I trail off, looking down at the floor. Silence falls between us. Tense and pulsing. Hot and freaking uncertain. “I’m sorry. Please just… please don’t mention his name in my presence. It’s just too much for me right now.”

“I understand,” she whispers after a moment. “Well, are you looking forward to your senior