American Monster

1 - Addy

Panic bloomed in my chest as someone from behind me groaned while shuffling their feet to move me along, and my fight-or-flight instinct kicked in. A few months too late, I thought, trying not to let my mind dwell, my self-doubt festering in my brain like cancer, eating up any self-confidence. Wiping my clammy palms against my skirt, I bit down on the inside of my cheek. Maybe if I had left sooner, everything wouldn't have been destroyed. But I was here now, and I needed to make the best of it, even if it was torture.

How did I end up here?

This is the question I'd asked myself countless times before. The answer always blurred in the recesses of my mind. My entire existence was a series of very unfortunate and embarrassing events, most of which I'd blocked out of sheer humiliation or guilt. But I couldn't block out Bryce, no matter how hard it was to think about what had transpired before I'd run away.

The first day at college is daunting. The first day of my second year, at a new college, was abysmal. And I was completely and utterly alone for the first time that I could remember. This wasn't part of the plan. Not my plan anyway. Bryce should be by my side, squeezing my hand to tell me that none of this mattered, and in the grand scheme of life, this wouldn't even be a blip on the radar of important moments. But he couldn't save me anymore, because I didn't save him. I was suddenly thrust into a world where everyone expected me to make my own decisions about my life, after being told what to wear, what to eat, and who I could talk to. And here I was staring up at a flickering electronic sign, my stomach twisting in knots, unable to pick which meal I would have for lunch. It was all so overwhelming. I knew no one here, which is why I chose Wellington U, but now I was second-guessing my decision.

I pushed my way through the crowd of students, anxious to place their orders, bumping into a girl and nearly sending her careening backward. I clutched onto her wrist to prevent her from colliding with the guy behind her, apologizing profusely.

"I am so, so sorry."

"Not a big deal. Jeez, you have ninja skills. Do you do Pilates or something?" she shot back; a wide grin plastered on her face.

"I dance."

"I did ballet when I was little."

"That's... great."

Of course, it was something sophisticated and graceful like ballet. She was beautiful, the kind of girl who would win homecoming queen effortlessly and have the nerve to think it's not a big deal. I felt my face begin to heat as my mouth became parched. Those types of girls would bully me mercilessly throughout grade school. I didn't blame them for how I was treated, although I liked to think that my real mother would have taught me to be kind and not to stick pads covered in red paint to people's backs. But I wasn't like them. Money bought them power that they wielded like a weapon. Had I been armed with more than dimples and a perky chest, perhaps the stage I'd danced on wouldn't have had a pole. I braced, waiting for a snide comment, but her pearly grin never wavered. "You just started here, right? We had Trig together this morning. I sat two rows behind you. Aren't you getting something to eat?" she asked, adjusting the strap of her periwinkle bag on her shoulder that matched her pedicure perfectly. I curled my toes inside of my shoes, knowing my socks didn't even match each other.

"Oh, I think I'll just get something from the chicken place across the street."

Her brows pulled together before she glanced over my shoulder as she called out, "Hey, Kian. Let's go over to Cluck U and grab some tenders with ..." Her eyes met mine again. "What's your name?"

"A-Addy," I stammered. "You don't have to do –"

"Hey," A boy called out from behind me.

I was startled when I twisted around to greet him. He loomed over me, his shoulders nearly twice as wide as my own. "Fresh meat," he teased, his pale eyes raking down my body as he ran his fingers through his messy cornsilk hair. He was your typical all-American boy, complete with a football jersey and blinding smile.