The fight

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"Get off, Colin. I'm not in the mood." 

"C'mon, Baby. What's the matter?" 

I remain silent, not feeling well. Colin begins to get frustrated with me. He finally gives up and looks out his car window with a heavy sigh. 

"I'm sorry... I love you," he says.

I turn and look at him. He smiles at me. I can't help but return the gesture. He begins leaning in again. "That's my girl." 

Colin kisses me roughly, but I didn't expect it like this. His hand brushes up my leg and to my waist, holding me in a tight grip and being too intimate for my comfort. His lips travel down my neck, and I try to pull away.  "Stop," I demand. He frowns.

"Why? You've never said anything before." 

"Just... stop." 

He comes at me again, obviously not satisfied. I try to protest by pushing him away and off of me. Colin grabs my wrist, constricting his large hand around my arm. I try to pull away. 

"You're hurting me, Colin. Let go!" I tell him angrily.  "Whatever," he huffs in return, throwing my arm back at me.  The heat rises to my cheeks. I'm practically fuming at this point. He always does this to me, but he protects me. He's just unhappy or something tonight.  We sit in silence in his Mustang, and I silently hope no one I know comes by and sees me. It's not that I'm ashamed of my boyfriend. It's just that I've been told he's bad news, but I don't listen, I guess. People would just shake their head at me and say, "I told you so." I hate when they do that to me. 

A nauseous feeling overwhelms me, and I suddenly want to get out of his car. I frown as my throat feels like it's closing. Probably another anxiety thing. My momma tells me I worry too much. 

Colin tries for the one hundredth time to make out with me when I really don't want to. He pulls me into him, and I shove him off and fumble with the lock on the door until I pull it up. I shakily step out of his car. I lean back down in the open door as he yells his protest at me. 

"Stop means stop, Colin," I tell him. I slam the door and start walking the opposite way to get home. I hear his car start up and drive the other way to his side of the neighborhood. 

People always look at us strange when we're together since he's a soc, and I'm a greaser. Then when he gets jealous over the suspicion they're looking at me, others turn their heads, scared he'll pound their face in. 

Colin plays football and is the big star. Everyone worships the ground he walks on. Then they wonder why he's dating me. I don't know why he is either. I guess he thinks I'm easy.  He's so wrong though. 

I fold my arms tightly across my chest, feeling the chill of the late Friday night creeping up on me through my clothes. Wearing shorts doesn't help, so I try to hurry home. Momma might kill me if it's past my curfew. I'm usually good about getting home on time though. She usually thinks I'm out with friends though. Most of the time, she knows I'm with Colin. Both my parents love him, but they don't know the real him... 

I look around for anybody who might be lurking in the foggy darkness. I've always been so paranoid of people at night. Dad gave me his switchblade he used to carry as a kid when I was thirteen for fear of my own safety. All my family had a blade when they were young. Now they're passed down to me and my friends and cousins, AKA their kids. 

The porch light's off. So I assume they've already gone to bed. If I'm not quiet, I'll be in so much trouble.

I sneakily walk up the steps and into the house. Everyone's in the living room, so I breathe a sigh of relief and kick off my shoes. 

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