Clary was not eating alone that lunchtime. She was eating with Sara. Leo sighed. Especially as Sara hated him, this would make this moment a lot harder, but he was determined to do it. This lunchtime. Or he'd end up chickening out.
When he approached, Sara glared at him. Clary looked as if she hadn't even noticed him there.
"Hey ..." he mumbled awkwardly.
"What do you want?" asked Sara shortly.
He sighed. "Clary, can I talk to you privately?"
Clary blinked. On one hand, talking to Leo privately was something she had wanted for a very long time. On the other, she didn't want to want it. She knew it was not in her best interest. She knew it was stupid. She knew he'd never like her back. But she wanted it all the same.
Love was very, very dumb. But it had a way of winning out.
She nodded.
Leo grinned. Sara glared. She picked up her school bag, and flounced off, then stopped. "If you need me ..." she glowered at Leo ... "then just call." She pointed a pink, sharpened nail at him. "I've been wanting to slap him for a very long time."
"What are you going to do, hit me with your makeup bag?" he smirked.
She glared at him. "Shut up, Leo," she hissed. "Or I will make you very, very sorry."
"The lipstick of doom," he sniggered. "The macsara of death ..."
"It's MAScara," Sara said loudly. "And leave - right now - before that mascara really does bring about your death." Leo smirked.
"Why of course."
Sara walked off. Leo looked down at Clary. She looked back at him. Then he did it. He kissed her. Clary gasped in shock, then she pulled away.
"Leo," she choked out, "I like you ... but ... no I don't! I hate you!" She burst into tears and ran away.
Leo's heart broke.
*
Clary walked away, sobbing. She walked into her house, locked her door, and carried on crying. That was when she realized that her parents could hear her.
She didn't want to dwell on what they did, but it just made her cry more. There was an angry red weal in a thick strip against her soft skin, with purple and blue bruising around the scarlet blow. She pressed it and winced.
Never had she felt so alone. She took her knife and began to cut, cut until the pain from her wounds lessened the pain from her mind. However, it didn't work, not like it usually did.
Nothing would work for the pain right now.
YOU ARE READING
Freak
General FictionThe new girl. The teachers say that her name is Clary Smith, but she's never told anyone her name. She doesn't speak. Is it a medical problem? Is there something wrong with her? Does she dislike us? Is she afraid of us? Nobody knows. But the widesp...
