Despising you

Chapter 19

L i s a

I have punched people before, for many different reasons. Usually, I'm careful, swift, and primarily collected. However, this time I was reckless; red, hot, burning fury enveloped my body and now I'm paying the price. By price I mean the ice pack that I'm currently holding against my swollen fist.

I should regret hitting that blonde prick because of the pain, but I don't... not even for a second.

Who does he think he is calling Jennie a cunt? He's lucky I didn't break his legs for the way he spoke to her.

I hate Jennie from the bottom of my heart, but that doesn't give him a free pass to talk to her like that. No one gets to talk to her like that.

Besides me.

Speaking of Jennie, she's shooting deathly glares my way right now. After she kicked blondie in the balls—which shouldn't have been attractive, but it was—she got him removed from the party and practically dragged me to the upstairs bathroom with an ice pack.

"I was perfectly capable of handling him myself," Jennie says to me annoyed, but her eyes don't hold the same eerie annoyance her tone does. It's almost as if she is pretending to be angrier than she actually is.

"I know," I shrug at her words, trying to conceal my grin, "I was just in the mood for a fight today."

This is completely true. Ever since I walked into the party and saw Jennie, it was as if my whole body had been submerged in ice, cold water that was choking me.

I tried to have fun and flirt with various people, but that all came to a standstill when I saw blondie hovering over Jennie. I couldn't focus on anything else.

"Well, stay out of it next time!" She snaps in a chastising tone.

That annoys me. Stay out of it? I know she could handle it herself, but would it kill her to be polite and thank me? What a silly question! Of course, it would; she's a raging bitch.

"Or what? You gonna kiss me again?" I taunt, narrowing my eyes.

There it is. I've dropped the bomb and her face has turned completely beet red; the same red that's matching what she's wearing—a dark-red corset with black, leather pants and god...she looks so sexy.

I hate it. Stop getting distracted.

She slams the bathroom door shut. "Are you crazy? Someone could have heard you!" she half shouts, half whispers at me.

"Aww, are you scared people will know that Jennie Kim likes kissing girls?" I sneer at her with a smile.

Does she like girls? I have no idea. Maybe I do, but I don't want to admit it because if I do, that means she felt something when she kissed me, then that would mean that the kiss actually meant something. I can't have that, not even for a second.

How could she even like girls? She's the most homophobic person I know, but maybe that was just internalized because of the trauma she faced as a child.

No. I need to stop this. Why am I psychoanalyzing her sexuality as if it has any affect on me? It doesn't; I could care less about it or the fact that she kissed me.

"I was concussed!" she retorts, flailing her hands around.

"Oh? Were you concussed when you slammed me against the lockers too—"

"Yes! It was a mistake." She bellows.

A mistake. Yes, that's what it was. Her lips on mine, the fireworks that overtook my brain and turned it into mush; I know it was a mistake, so why do her words send a pang to my heart? I ignore the feeling and try my best to mask it.