Met Online

Chapter 25

"I can't believe you," I snap at her the moment I see her.

"What?"

"You told her. You fucking told her!" Taylen cringes at the sound of my fist colliding with the hard metal of the locker next to hers. I'm only vaguely aware of the throbbing pain that follows, and I'm too overwhelmed with anger to care about it.

Once Taylen has recovered from her initial shock of my sudden attack her mind starts to process my words. I know the exact moment she realizes what I'm talking about. I can tell by the way her shocked expression softens before every muscle in her face tenses in frustration and her eyes get that icy look to them that I've been suffering under for the past few days. "I'm sorry, but you deserve it."

Now it's my time to be confused. "What are you talking about?"

"You knew I liked him!" she exclaims, throwing her hands around to emphasize her words.

"Who?"

"Justin," she hisses at me. "You knew I liked him."

"How was I supposed to know that?"

"I told you when we were sophomores."

"Yeah and then we became juniors and you kept telling me how much you hated him," I exclaim frustrated. "How the hell was I supposed to know that you still liked him? I'm not a freaking mind reader."

"You're my best friend, that's how you're supposed to know,"

"I was your best friend," I snap at her, correcting her.

"What?" she gasps surprised.

"You know what," I exclaim frustrated. "Do you honestly think that I'll forgive you for ruining the best thing that ever happened to me?"

"The best thing that ever happened to you?" she snorts. She sounds more offended than she has the right to. "Cassidy, it was fake. It was all one big fat lie."

"It may have been a lie, but at least it was mine," I yell at her. By now we've attracted the attention of a handful of curious students, but I'm too worked up to care about it the way that I usually would. "You had no right to tell her."

"What did you expect me to do?" she exclaims frustrated, once again throwing her arms around to emphasize her words.

"You could have told her to stick it."

"Are you seriously lecturing me about that?" she laughs. It's strict and sarcastic and it sounds almost forced as it passes her lips.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you really expect me to always stand up for you, when you've never been able to?"

"You were my best friend," I whisper hurt.

"No, I was your shield," she spits at me through clenched teeth, as if she's disgusted by the words. "I stood up for you because I felt bad for you, but there's only so much that I can take." Her words hit me where it hurts the most; right underneath the armor that I have struggled so hard to build around my heart the past few years. "I'm tired of taking punches for you; of being categorized as a loser by association."

"You think I'm a loser?" I sound just as I feel: wounded and hurt.

"That's not what I meant," she sighs, her expression finally softening a bit.

"But that's what you said," I state. "You called me a loser."

"Cassidy ..." she starts to speak, but trails off at a loss for words.