Rough||Robby Keene

012

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Chapter 12!
Daddy Dearest
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Two weeks had passed since the fight, and Bonnie still hadn't heard a word from Robby. The silence was deafening, a constant weight on her chest. She tried to stay busy—anything to keep from thinking about him—but her mind kept wandering back to that moment: Robby on the balcony, his eyes filled with guilt, his expression full of regret. Then, just like that, he was gone. And she couldn't shake the feeling that whatever had happened—whatever had gone wrong—was somehow her fault.

She had tried calling, texting, emailing—even reaching out to Sam to ask if she'd heard anything. But every time, it was the same response: nothing. Her phone stayed silent, like a reminder that Robby was slipping further and further away from her.

The days since had been slow and heavy. Bonnie and Sam had both been given two-week suspensions, the fallout from the fight still hanging over them like a storm cloud. Being stuck at home with nothing to do but think only made the days drag on, each one blending into the next. Bonnie spent most of her time on the couch, wrapped in the stillness of her own thoughts.

Her ribs had now healed to the point where they only ached when she moved too quickly or coughed. The scar on her shoulder, where the stitches had once been, was still new, a faint reminder of the pain that had lingered in the days after the fight. In Bonnie's opinion, it was ugly, the kind of scar that told a story that she didn't want to remember. But she couldn't stop looking at it, tracing the rough lines with her fingers as if somehow it could give her answers.

The news had been relentless. Reports of the fight, of the chaos, of Robby's name coming up again and again in the police reports. The cops were after him. He was probably lying low, hiding out, doing whatever he could to stay off their radar. He had always been resourceful like that.

Bonnie was supposed to go back to school today, and she couldn't bring herself to feel anything but dread. Her backpack felt heavier than usual, as if the weight of the past two weeks had settled inside it. She stood in front of the mirror, brushing her hair away from the scar on her shoulder. It wasn't huge, but it was noticeable enough. A reminder. She hated it. She hated that it was there, proof of the mess she had gotten herself into.

With a sigh, she grabbed a cardigan and pulled it on over her shirt, tugging the sleeves down as if that could shield her from the inevitable stares. People would already be looking at her, whispering about the fight, about Robby, about everything. The scar would only make it worse.

•••••••••••••••••••••

Genevieve pulled up to the front entrance of the school, just like she had on the morning of the fight. For a moment, Bonnie just sat there, gripping the strap of her backpack, the weight of returning pressing down on her.

Her mother had been hesitant about letting her come back, her worry evident in every glance and every lingering pause in their conversations. But once she found out Tory had been expelled, Genevieve had relented, believing maybe it was time to let Bonnie face it all, to move on.

But Bonnie wasn't sure if she was ready. She stared at the familiar brick walls of the school. Everything looked the same, but it felt different, like she was stepping into a world that didn't belong to her anymore. Her stomach churned, her hands tightening around the strap of her bag as she swallowed hard.

Her mother's eyes softened. "You don't have to do this today if you're not ready," She said gently.

Bonnie shook her head. "I have to." She couldn't hide forever. If she stayed home any longer, the anxiety would only grow, twisting itself into something unbearable. At least here, she could face it—whatever it was.