It Would've Been You

III

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐙. I had seen her before. After her little friend slept with Zion, she snuck into the boys' locker room to threaten him. I admit I respect her for it. She had more balls than some of the guys I knew.

Morgan is your average 'troubled girl' who looks like she's going through every problem you could list. She hates my guts, and the feelings are mutual. It's a shame we don't get along. She is hot – the type of girl I'd hook up with and agree to never speak to again.

However, I was stuck with her for the next hour instead of sitting at my usual table in the cafeteria with the other football players and their girlfriends.

I slump into my chair even more, hoping I melt into it. Sitting in silence, while her piercing brown eyes shoot daggers at me is getting us nowhere.

"Do you have a problem?" I raise an eyebrow.

"You are the problem." She snaps back.

"Okay." My foot taps on the floor. The stillness in this library is becoming unbearable.

My eyes wander from the tattered pair of white Converse on her feet to the print on her sweater. I can feel her gaze roaming my body, and we lock eye contact briefly before we look away.

"So what are we doing?" I ask, hoping to start a genuine conversation, but neither of us is mature enough to do so.

"If you looked at your messages, you'd see the document I sent you. Or do you only check your phone for hook-ups too?" Her answer causes me to scoff.

I found it hot, though. Her attitude. She never cared for anything anyone said. And that made me more inclined to break her. To see if she really was as stoic as she tried to be.

After what seemed like forever, lunch ended, and we had only just agreed on the choice of our assignment since most of our time was spent throwing insults at each other.

Once again, we sit in silence, glancing at each other occasionally. I decide to be the bigger person and try to settle the unspoken feud between us. "What did I do to you? We've never spoken before." I sit up, eager to know what the fuck her issue with me is.

"I can hate you from afar."

"You must live a pretty sad life then."

"I could say the same for you." Morgan rolls her eyes. "You should stop acting all high-and-mighty around the school. You aren't as important as you think."

Much to her surprise, I was ready for her remarks with my own. I lean forward, my arms resting on the table, looking her dead in the eyes. "Maybe you should stop with the bitchy attitude. We both know under all of this. . you're just a soft, broken little girl."

Her expression changes ever so slightly, and I smirk, knowing I've hit a nerve. There were rumors all around school about her – how her dad was an alcoholic, and the reason she took a month off of school during this semester was because she was in a mental hospital.

It was wrong of me to bring it up, but seeing beneath her cold facade, even for a second, gave me satisfaction.

"You guys are all the same," She folds her arms. "The only personality trait you have is sleeping around."

I chuckle to myself. She wasn't wrong. The guys were focused solely on the girls, and the girls were all the same. Boring, bitchy. Most of them gave good head. At this point, it was all I was using them for. Release. Relief of whatever stress I was dealing with.

I don't think I've loved a girl I hooked up with before, not even my ex-girlfriends. They are all just replacements of one another. Someone to have sex with. Someone to show off.