You can Bet on Me

Part 27 ~ Don't Touch Me

Maddison
Friday. I just had to get through one more day before I would be free from seeing Michael, at least for the weekends. Somehow, one day felt like forever. Classes dragged on and on and on, but I was at least glad for the distraction from the one thing that made my heart ache. By the end of the day, I still hadn't seen Michael, and I was just about to be free. I walked outside alone, since all my friends were busy and Paige, Iris, and Laura were all unlocatable.
Just before I could walk out the gates, someone grabbed my wrist, ever so gently yet with a strong sense of persistency. I knew who it was instantly. I didn't turn around. I couldn't bare to look at him, much less speak to him. Not that I could speak – my mouth went dry and my wrist was tingling with nixed-up feelings that I couldn't recognize. I hated how I could be so composed and calm and organized, but when it came to him, I turned to jelly and completely forgot how to do anything and everything.
"Maddison," his voice was soft. Gentle. Aching. Why did he hurt if he was the one that hurt me? He didn't have the right to be hurt. Not after what he did to me. Especially not after how he had broken me.
"Don't touch me, Michael," I tried to yank my arm away from him, but he held on. "You know, this is a thing called 'harassment', of which people go to jail for."
"I'll take my chances," Michael said. "Just please. Listen to me, just for a little while."
"No," my voice cracked, and my pain showed terribly. "I don't have to listen to what you have to say. I hate you, and I don't want to see you right now."
"Maddison, please," Michael's words were as pained as mine were, and I wondered why. How could he possibly be hurt when he had been the one to hurt me? That question pounded in my head again and again and it frustrated me that I couldn't solve it. That I couldn't figure it out. That it wasn't like a math problem which always had a solution – it was something I couldn't and would never know.
"I know it was stupid. I know that I've hurt you, but believe me when I say that it's killing me too – killing me that I've hurt you and lost you so quickly and painfully." Michael's words were laced with emotion and regret and I almost wanted to just forgive him, but my head reminded me what he did, and my heart hardened again.
"Believe you?" a choked, cold laugh escaped me. "Well that sure worked out well the first time."
"I know, I've lost you already. You don't have to forgive me. I don't want you to forgive me – I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'll apologize anyways, again and again and again, no matter how many times it takes for you to be able to look me in the eyes again," Michael's voice was breaking.
"I think that'll never happen," I snapped. "I'll never be able to look you in the eyes again, Michael. You've broken me. Ruined me. And you still think that I can even bare to look at you? I won't. I can't. You're not the person I thought you were." My voice was getting louder.
"But I am," Michael said, his voice raw and pained.
"Oh really?" another cold laugh escaped me, floating up into the air as if it had never existed. "Well then I guess that the person I thought you were never existed in the first place. Tell me Michael—" I whipped around to face him, finally trusting myself not to burst into tears, "—was it all a lie? Was it never true? Did it ever really happen, or did I imagine all that too?"
Never mind. Tears escaped my eyes anyways, and I knew they were going to fall the moment I opened my mouth. Michael didn't reply. His face seemed just as sad and miserable as mine, but I couldn't find an ounce of pity for him – he had hurt me, and I wouldn't forget that so easily. Finally, I yanked my arm one more time, and this time, Michael let go. I was almost a little sad that he was giving up already, but when I caught on to my own senses, I shoved that feeling deep down in my stomach, pushing Michael away and running off without looking back.
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