Kiss and Break Up - Ella Fields Page 0,56

all there, whispering or quickly stashing away their phones after recording the fight.

“He didn’t start it.”

I barked out a dry laugh, but really, I didn’t give a shit. They could do whatever they wanted, and I would do the same. I opened my car door and jumped inside. Lars and Jackson pounded on the windows, but I’d locked the doors. I didn’t need them to come with or follow me like I was on some kind of suicide watch. As the principal pulled out his phone, likely to speak with my mom or dad, I peeled out of the lot, forcing students to jump out of the way as screeches and screams left their mouths.

Blood dripped onto my cheek, and I figured I’d probably been hit more times than I recalled. The guy hit the gym every day and was all about training in the off season, so it made sense he knew how to use his bulk.

Too bad he’d muscled his way into the wrong girl’s life, consequently ruining mine.

I drove around town for however long. Long enough to be able to think a little more rationally.

All that went to hell when I saw the red Volkswagen parked outside the wrought iron gates shielding my driveway. The sight of her—her arms crossed over her chest, her lip between her teeth, and her face blotchy from crying—was almost enough to send me back to school to finish what I’d started.

Almost.

I drove in once the gates opened, and she jogged in behind me before she was locked out. Dirt sprayed, a few rocks pelting the car as I sped down to the garage, then slammed on the brakes.

She was there within seconds of me shifting into park, panting and breathing heavily.

The sound had tormenting thoughts clenching my fists.

“Why’d you leave?” Her question sounded like an accusation, and I shook my head, a sinister laugh departing my thinned, bloodied lips.

“Fuck you. You got what you wanted, right?” I stepped closer to her, noticing how puffy her eyes were. “Did I prep you just right?”

She shook her head, her lips wobbling. “I’m sorry. I know—”

“I hate you,” I said with every ounce of ruin I felt.

“Dash …” Her voice broke. Her face, shoulders—all of her—seemed to crumple as she took an unsteady step back.

The sight of her misery was about to send me to my knees, but my revulsion kept me standing. I hit the remote for the door, my chest heaving. “I fucking hate you, Peggy.”

The door closed on her shattered expression.

Peggy

I fucking hate you, Peggy.

As if it wasn’t bad enough that rumors had spread about me throughout the entire school, the one person I needed most had believed them without even hearing me out. The look on his face, the anger wrenching his voice—it hurt worse than anything that’d transpired since homecoming.

I’d stalked through the halls silent, my head down and my heart weary as whispers and disgusting overtures found me at every turn. I wanted to scream at them, but I knew it’d only give them further ammunition to use against me. Instead, I’d spent too much time crying in the girls’ bathroom, drowning in my own reckless decisions.

Class was hardly a reprieve because even the teachers looked at me as if I’d disappointed them.

I’d wanted a boyfriend, to feel wanted, to experience what it was like to have another human being touch you and look at you in a way that painted the world in fresh color.

I never expected this to happen.

I’d made a mistake, which was evident in the way Byron so easily shared what’d happened between us. Not once did I think he’d share something personal and maybe, under different circumstances, special between us. Regardless, I couldn’t live with that kind of guilt for long. I’d sat at home all weekend, trying to devise a way to tell Dash myself. To tell him I had feelings for him too.

That was pointless now, and I wondered if Byron had somehow hoped or planned for that, or if he even cared that he’d made my life hell in the days after. Maybe I’d never know because every time I’d tried to talk to him, he’d make himself scarce and ignore my calls.

Words held too much power. It was clear he’d wielded that power for his own personal gain, uncaring of how it would affect anyone besides himself.

It wasn’t fair, and it was all I could do to drag myself out of bed Tuesday morning and throw myself to the