Law of Attraction

9| Nyx

Edited.

"Why are you even so worked up?" Nailea asked through a laugh as she stopped at a red light. A mother and her kids crossed the street, sending Nailea a grateful smile because the previous car had ignored the red light. I sat in the passenger seat, gripping the seatbelt and seething, only fueling Nailea's laughter.

I huffed, trying to rid Melissa's stare from my mind. "You should've seen her, Nai, the way she looked at me." My fists clenched. "I hated it because it's the way I look at people." Her hazel eyes flashed through my mind and I groaned, becoming frustrated with myself for concerning myself with her. I was the one who frustrated people, not the other way around. "She was taunting me."

Nailea nodded, stepping on the gas. In a light tone, she proposed, "so, this has nothing to do with her having slept with Beckham?" I knew I shouldn't have added that fact when relaying the story. It was irrelevant. If I had laser vision, the curly-haired woman in the driver's seat would've been nothing but a pile of ash. She caught my death glare and choked on another laugh. "It's a genuine question!"

"Why should I care who he sticks his dick in?" I challenged, struggling to get a grip on my displeasure. It was like trying to catch air, completely futile. "He can stick his dick in whatever he wants, until his dick catches a disease and falls off. Then, the only place his dick will be in is a jar because they'll have to cut it off and he'll be dickless-"

"Can you stop saying the word dick!" Nailea blurted, eyes wide as she lurched around an old lady. She yelled an apology through the window and the old lady raised her middle finger in response. Nailea ignored her, already focused on the road again. "Every time you say it your voice goes a little higher and you make me jump. One more time and we'll crash into a tree." Her face was red, and she peered at the rearview mirror, fully expecting us to be chased by a cop or something.

I apologised smoothly, rolling my eyes as I realised my argument didn't even make sense. And that irked me. Because my arguments always made sense. It was the reason I was on the debate team in both middle and high school. An inhumane groan resounded from me, and I sank my head into my hands.

"I really couldn't give a fuck about who Beckham sleeps with, Nai," I informed her, my words filled with sincerity, and she nodded, eyes flitting to the rearview mirror. She knew things would never be the same between us again. "It's Melissa that's the problem. She thought she achieved something by tossing their activities in my face. She taunted me."

Taking a second to peek at me, Nailea's stare was dripping with sympathy. To taunt me was to trigger something deep within me. I didn't like being painted as a fool. I outsmarted others. I taunted others. I'd been on the receiving end of humiliation before, put there by someone who wanted me to suffer.