Ritual - Palm South University

Grayson spits a mouthful of blood to the side before grinning up at Adam. “My girl, first.”

A growl rips through Adam, and he lays another crack to Grayson’s jaw before I can stop him. I’m screaming and crying and tearing at him to let Grayson go. When he finally does, it’s to the tune of the manager yelling for us to take it outside or she’d call campus police. And so, Adam drops his grip, letting Grayson fall back onto the floor.

Then, he storms out without even looking back at me.

I scramble to get my purse where it’s hanging off the back of my chair, plucking a twenty out and leaving it on the table before I fly out after Adam. He’s already halfway across the quad, and I scream his name over and over, jogging to catch up.

It’s not until we’re by the reflection pond that Adam stops and turns, and when the weight of his gaze hits me, I stumble back, eyes blurring as I cover my mouth.

“Adam, it’s not what you think.”

“Oh, it’s not?” he challenges, stepping into my chest as I shrink away. He points a finger back at the shop. “So that wasn’t your so-called friend hitting on you, touching you, trying to kiss you?”

I cringe. “I swear, I didn’t do anything.”

“No, you didn’t. But that motherfucker sure as hell did.”

“I told him not to touch me. I told him to stop.”

Adam roars out a growl that makes the students walking by us glance our direction with wide eyes before they scurry off. He throws his hands up in the air, lacing them over his head as he paces.

“What did I tell you? Huh?” Adam throws his arms out toward me, and I wince at his already swollen and bruised knuckles from where he hit Grayson. “I told you he didn’t want to just be your friend. I told you he wanted more, that he had something up his sleeve. But you didn’t believe me. You picked him over me.”

“That’s not fair,” I defend. “I didn’t pick anyone.”

“Yes,” he argues, stepping into my space again. “Yes, you fucking did. You may not have said the words I choose Grayson over you, but that’s exactly what you made clear when you told me you wouldn’t choose me. When you dug your heels in and proved that being friends with that asshole who cheated on you was more important than making me feel safe and comfortable.”

“You’re friends with Skyler!” I scream out, desperation flowing through me. I know the argument is weak before I even finish making it. “How is this not the same?”

“SKYLER DOESN’T TRY TO MAKE OUT WITH ME!”

My nose flares, and I look around at the attention we’re calling, reaching out for Adam to calm him.

But he backs away before I can connect.

His chest heaves with the next breath, and he beats on it like an ape. “I don’t hang out with Skyler after every single fucking class. Hell, I don’t even hang out with her period — not anymore, not unless we’re in a group setting in the same place. And if you asked me right now, right here, to not be friends with her because it made you uncomfortable?” He shakes his head, as if it’s obvious. “I would never see her again. No questions asked.”

“Adam,” I beg, eyes blurring. “I’m sorry. Okay? I was wrong. I thought…” My voice is strangled, and I shake my head. “I… I really thought…”

“That he wanted to be your fucking friend? That you two would braid each other’s hair and drink coffee and study together and he wouldn’t be using every minute to plan how to get your panties on his bedroom floor?”

My chin quivers. “Okay. You’ve made your point.”

“Have I?” He steps into me, staring down his nose. “What’s my point, Cassie?”

“I didn’t kiss him!” I say loudly, pressing my hands into his chest. “Okay? I didn’t come onto him or ask for any of that back there. I didn’t do anything wrong. I can’t control what he did, but why are you so fucking mad at me?”

Adam watches me for a long time, breathing slowly, eyes dancing between mine. After a while, he shakes his head, looking at me like I disgust him, like I’m an idiot he feels sorry for, like he can’t believe he ever trusted me.

“I’m not mad, Cassie,” he says, his voice soft, resigned. “I’m tired.”

“Of what?” I ask, throwing my hands out, exasperated.

“Of choosing you when you refuse to choose me back.”

I frown, my next breath stuttering out of my chest like the exhaust of a busted old car. His words slice me into ribbons, each piece of me cut so thin and weak that I’m afraid I might blow away in the next breeze.

I hurt him.

I hurt the boy I love.