I clasped my hands together in my lap, wishing my hair could hide me from everyone. I would not cry. I closed my eyes and sucked in a breath. Jess, don’t you dare cry now.
I knew Blake was gloating. He enjoyed putting me in the spotlight, and being in the spotlight was something I absolutely despised.
Marcus gave me a sidelong glance and handed me a folded paper when Ms. Gentry carried on talking about Benjamin Franklin. Hiding it under my desk, I unfolded the paper.
Don’t pay attention to Jones. He’ll stop sooner or later.
I could only wish. Marcus didn’t know that ignoring never got me anywhere with Blake. In fact, it only incited him to harass me more. Still, I appreciated Marcus for not thinking any less of me because of Blake’s put-downs.
Marcus Robinson was in the school choir like me, and he seemed like a nice guy. He’d asked me out the previous week, which had come totally out of the blue because of the long-circulating rumors that he was gay. I told him I didn’t like him and turned him down, but he remained friendly with me.
You don’t know him. He can be very persistent, I wrote under his words and returned the paper to him. I glanced at Ms. Gentry, and thankfully she wasn’t looking in our direction. Marcus unfolded the paper.
I leaned in to tell him not to accept anything from Blake in case he actually sent my photo to his Snapchat, but too suddenly, Blake yanked me away from Marcus by my braid, and I barely managed to stifle a yelp.
I spun around to face him. “What the hell is your problem?” I hissed, trying to be as quiet as possible.
“Burks isn’t enough for you, so you also want Robinson?” he said under his breath, wearing a grimace. “So, you’re fat and a slut.”
I winced, repulsed by his ugly, jealous-sounding words. For once, the urge to put him in his place was stronger than fear, and I blurted out, “Says a guy who’s slept with countless girls. It’s a wonder your penis hasn’t fallen off yet.”
His face fell. His gray eyes narrowed to two menacing slits that cut deep into me, and the rest of the classroom ceased to exist. I could feel it—his next attack.
He gripped the wrist I rested on the back of my chair and got up in my face. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” I tugged my arm back to try to free myself, but it was useless. “You know I can ruin you in a second. It’s that easy.”
“Miss Metts? Mr. Jones?” Ms. Gentry called out, but her voice sounded like it came from far away. Blake and I were too lost in our exchange to care about anyone else, only inches separating our faces now.
“I’ll send your embarrassing photos and videos to every college in the state,” he said quietly so only I could hear him, and a twinge of trepidation mixed with my anger. “No one will accept you. You won’t have any future by the time I’m done with you, so you better think twice before you put my back up again.”
I. Hate. Him.
I hate him so much.
“Mr. Jones! What do you think you’re doing?”
Our teacher stopped above us, but my anger had reached the boiling point and nothing mattered anymore but hurting him. Six months—that was how long it took me not to care about his sick retributions and pain for once.
Six long months, but better late than never.
He had no limits. He had no shame. And he had absolutely no empathy. It was too much, and I couldn’t put up with it anymore. I couldn’t just keep quiet and hide under the covers like a scared kid, hoping the danger would pass. No more.
I glanced at his iPhone on his desk—the phone that was there almost every time I was humiliated. That phone documented my tears, my moments of despair, and my moments of mortification. It was abhorrent.
Pent-up anxiety was like a ticking bomb. It could explode at any moment.
Mine finally did.
I stood up before I was even aware of it and grabbed the device I despised so much. I flung it to the floor, relishing the sound of shattering. It was cathartic. His screen cracked in different places, and something akin to satisfaction spread through my chest.
As everyone blended in the background, I raised my head to meet Blake’s gaze, and every positive feeling in me vanished. I actually staggered when I saw the hatred like never before in his eyes. The veins on his jaw bulged out as he fought not to lunge at me.
“Miss Metts, this is preposterous!” Ms. Gentry glared at me with her hand placed across her heart. “I won’t tolerate such awful behavior in my class. And you.” She pointed at Blake. “I’m disgusted by the fact that you’re bullying your classmate and it’s happening right in the middle of my class! I can’t let that go unpunished. I’m giving both of you detention.”
What?! “But he was the one who started it—”
“But you continued it.” She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I want to see you both here after school on Monday. Now, out of my classroom!”
“You’ll be sorry for this,” Blake said through his teeth in a voice that chilled me, and I believed him. I truly believed I was screwed. He picked up his phone from the floor and snatched his textbook and notebook from his desk on his way out.
I couldn’t look at anyone, unable to shake off the regret and shame. Only now, the consequences of my outburst dawned on me. I’d never gotten a detention before, and my parents weren’t going to like this at all.
I scooped up my notebook and textbook with shaky hands and shrugged at Marcus, whose gaze held so much pity. I wanted to rewind the last minute and stop myself from throwing Blake’s phone all the more. I
