SEXT

“Hannah, that’s not what’s happening here.”

“You stole my boyfriend.”

“You weren’t together anymore.”

“Only because he’s confused. He doesn’t realize what he needs. He doesn’t realize that I’ll give him more than any woman could. He needs me. You? You’re just the fuck of the minute. He’s had a million sluts like you in his bed. He’ll get bored of you before the week is up.”

“Hannah, let me leave.”

Instead, she squares off in front of the door and spreads her arms wide. “Well I’ve had enough,” she’s saying. “I’m not letting you fuck with him any longer.”

“You’re the one who’s fucking with him,” I counter, my voice rising. “You won’t leave him alone. That’s not normal, Hannah.”

“Of course it’s not normal. He and I were never boring, normal. We were better than that. We are better than that. As soon as sluts like you stop distracting him, he’ll see that. He’ll realize he’s meant to be with me.”

“You have to stop this. Let go of him.”

“Make me,” she snarls. Then, without warning, she launches across the room at me. I manage to catch her wrists in mine, but her momentum sends us both flying backwards. My back cracks against the tile wall and I groan. She takes advantage of the moment to pry one hand free and slaps me across the cheek. I shove her off me and bring up an arm to block her next strike which lands against my forearm. It stings, but not as much as my cheek, which burns where she hit it.

“Hannah, stop.”

“Fucking slut. I’ll ruin you. I’ll make you regret the day you laid eyes on him.”

She lunges at me again, and this time, I’m ready for it. I catch her shoulders with both hands and shove her sideways into the sink. She roars with rage as she crashes against it, and pushes off the sink to grab my hair. I ignore that and punch her straight in the nose, the way my dad always taught me. The way I’ve never had to do before.

But it works. Her eyes start to water, and she shrieks, letting go of my hair.

“Hannah, please—”

“You bitch!” She hits me with both arms now, and I don’t see the other hit coming, don’t have time to block before she’s shoving me against the wall again, hitting my chest hard enough to make me gasp for air.

Dimly, at the back of my mind, I’m aware of the door swinging open, someone else barging in. I hear shouting, voices. I’m too focused on catching my breath, forcing air through my aching throat into my lungs once more.

When I come to focus again, someone has pulled Hannah off of me and is holding her by both arms.

Zayne.

I gape at him, watch him pinning her o the wall as she struggles against his grip. At the same time, someone else, a young woman, pushes through the door and sees the three of us, Hannah kicking at Zayne as he struggles to stop her fighting.

“I’ll call the police,” the woman gasps, disappearing once more. Hannah, for her part, only takes that as a renewed reason to fight. She swings at me with a leg, trying to kick for my arm, but I back out of the way before the kick lands.

“Hannah, please, just stop,” Zayne says, his voice low with anger.

“This slut is corrupting you. Brainwashing you. Don’t you see?”

“All I see is you attacking my girlfriend,” he spits back.

A little thrill sparks in my stomach, even in spite of the circumstances, at hearing him say that. Girlfriend.

“She doesn’t deserve you. She won’t care about you the way I do. She won’t give up everything, sacrifice the world for you. Don’t you see?” Hannah twists in his arms to meet his eye, her face a mask of desperation. “Zayne, this is real. Me and you.”

“No, Hannah. This was never real.” His face, on the other hand, is torn between fury and pity.

“How can you say that? I’ve been here every minute. Watching you, waiting for you. I helped you get rid of those ugly sluts on that dating app—”

“Hacking into my phone without my permission and harassing women I like isn’t helping me.”

“They weren’t good enough for you. Nobody is. Nobody but me because I love you.” She twists in his arms until she’s facing him, and I can see even from here what effort it takes him not to cringe away. “This is real love, Zayne.”

“No. It’s not.” He releases her, carefully though, hands still poised to catch her again if she lunges for me once more. But as he lets go of her, his gaze drifts to me, his eyes dark and serious. “Love is not toxic or controlling. It’s not spying on people and hurting innocent bystanders in the process.” He locks eyes with me. “I know what real love is now.”