The Revenge Games Duet

Mitch takes a step back, touching the small of my back. I grab Wesley’s hand and drag him past the crowd, ignoring his weight and reluctance to follow me. People are watching, curiosity on their faces and a few following us outside.

The cool air graces my face, instantly bringing my body temperature down. I search the area around us and continue dragging him to a more secluded area in the doorway of a neighboring store that’s closed. It doesn’t stop the onlookers and cameras from flashing in the distance. Conscious of the unwanted attention, I raise my arm and cover my face to disguise myself.

I want to tear him apart which is fueled by anger and confusion.

“What the hell is your problem? What was that? You can’t just fight people and throw your fist around.”

“You don’t even know the guy, and you leave with him!” His brows pull down together, agitated, his expression full of animosity. “I know you’re naïve but didn’t think you were that dumb.”

His eyes are distracted for a moment, watching people walk past, a bunch of girls who giggle and call his name. That’s it. This, whatever this is, needs to stop.

“Thanks for calling me dumb. You seem to have this knack for making me feel pathetic. Run off to your posse of girls, I can take care of myself.”

I don’t give him a chance to respond, abandoning him and walking at a fast pace in the exact opposite direction with no clue where I’m heading. I hear him call my name, once, twice, but ignore him. When a cab drives past, I wave my hand repeatedly until it stops along the curb. I jump in, shutting the door behind me, letting out a breath of air and allowing my head to fall against the headrest before the tears escape, and my homesick-self begins its plea to head back home.

Wind sweeps through the cab and the door swings open. The cab driver yells, and Wesley has jumped in the back with me.

I straighten my posture, restraining my hands that want to push him out of the cab and onto the pavement.

“What the hell are you doing?” I yell at him.

He runs his hands through his hair and bites his lip with an irritable twitch. There’s this nervous energy about him like he isn’t thinking straight and is on edge. “I don’t know. You’re… annoying, frustrating, clumsy, and dress like you belong in a nunnery.”

I stare down at my navy dress. His terrible words make me want to cry, but as stupid as that sounds I won’t give him that satisfaction. I will cry behind closed doors with a tub of ice cream and be that type of girl I swear I’ll never be because of a mean boy.

“Well, you’re a conceited snob who’s probably riddled with diseases from all the hoochies hanging off you.”

“You’re just…” He curls his fist into a ball, stumbling on his words.

“What, Wesley?” I laugh out of nowhere. “You have no clue who I am. You don’t know me from a bar of soap. Whatever opinion you’re forming of me, go ahead. I honestly don’t care.”

He raises his head and opens his mouth, my heart beating like a looming thunderstorm from the anger consuming me. I know his next words will be cruel and heartless, so I prepare myself, biting my lip and scrambling for the right words to use against him.

Then I stop.

I’m staring directly into the eyes of a man who hates me.

I want to hate him back.

But his stare changes, and it’s something I can’t figure out. It is still anger, and there’s a wild flare.

He leans forward, my body pushing into the door as our lips touch. It lasts only seconds, him pulling away, leaving me shaky and confused. I’m deafened by the thumping of my heart, catching broken words as he directs the cab driver, giving him an address.

My voice wavers, scared to ask the question. “Where are you taking me?”

Silence. He says nothing, staring deeply at the front window, nostrils flaring with lips pursed so tight they’re almost stark white.

“Wesley,” I push with desperation. “Answer me!”

His head turns swiftly, angrily. “I’m taking you back to my place. Now shut up, you’ve done enough damage tonight.”

I’m blown away by his disrespectful tone, his hurtful words, and equally confused at the same time of his need to kiss me. That strong, independent woman inside of me is sobbing at this unnecessary mess.

I want to push him out the door.

Or jump out myself.

It’s now or never.