Dear Maya » rilaya

twelve - rage

Dear Maya, 

        I'm going to start out with an apology, which you will never read but it makes me feel better.

        I am sincerely sorry for beating up your boyfriend, I know it's gonna be hard to kiss him with the busted lip and swollen eye, and I am wholeheartedly wishing I could take it back. Even if it's just so you'll stop giving me the silent treatment (seeing Lucas like that is something I'll never, ever wish to take back, seeing him finally get what he deserves for treating you like he did).

        Okay, I'm going to back up for you so you can finally hear what really happened and not some twisted tale Friar cooked up to make me look like the worst best friend in existence (remember when he said that we were a little too close in eighth grade? I personally think he still feels threatened).

        It was Monday, so you still weren't back at school, despite your infinite pushing to come back mere days after being in hospital. Personally, on this matter I agreed with the doctor for once, you still looked so broken, beaten and (don't kill me for this) fragile. I couldn't imagine you coming back to this hell hole, having to shove your way through masses of people that didn't care that you still had a bruised rib and elbowing you would make it worse, Maya, they had a class to get to.

        Obviously the whole Lucas cheating scenario was still playing over in the back of my mind like some kind of fuel to this burning fire inside of me. I could just see him in your apartment, having the nerve to fuck another girl in the bed you two shared. And though this was just an image in my mind, I could clearly see her bleach blonde hair and makeup loaded face false gasping as you opened the door, pretending to be self conscious and covering her fake body after you left, her saying in a sickly sweet voice that she had to go.

        I can see him grabbing the girl that looked the closest to you out of some bar, thinking she'd be good enough. That she'd do. But that's not true, no random girl could ever compare to you. No blonde hair will ever take on the same shade when the five thirty sun hits it at full force, no eyes will be as many colors of blue, no lips ever as voluminous, no skin ever as soft. He's an idiot if he thinks that ever would've worked.

        I was already on edge, Maya, it was like we'd swapped places. I was a volcano, ready to explode at any moment. I was bubbling with heated rage.

        So when he walks up to me and asks if you're at home still healing I respond with: "Yes, a broken heart." I don't really know where it came from, I knew I should have just kept my mouth shut, but the look on his face, complete lack of guilt or remorse, it threw another piece of wood into the flames.

        He looks at me strangely for five seconds before realizing you must've told me about what he did (what did he expect, you not to tell me? he really is full of it). Then his eyes narrow and he blatantly says: "God, Riley, don't even start. She's such an idiot." he mumbles then rakes his fingers through his hair angrily, teeth barring. "She shouldn't have told you anything in the first place, it has nothing to do with you, it's between us."

        He tries to walk away then, almost fading into the crowd before I yell. "Yeah it's between you two, plus the random chick you fucked while she was out trying to fix things!"

        People are staring now, at him, at me. He walks faster, but doesn't get very far before I grab his arm and whip him back around to face me, the volcano bubbling up to the top. "Look at me!" I screech. "You don't get to walk away, you have to face what you've done this time! You cheated on her, with who? Someone you didn't even know? Because why-"

        "She cheated on me!" He tried to interrupt.

        "Oh my god, Lucas, you're such an idiot! She didn't cheat on you, she was out doing street art! And, even if she had cheated on you, what was your first thought, the manly thing to do instead of listening to her side of the story? Giving her payback, showing her 'hey I can cheat too'?! Do you have any idea how upset she is, thinking that she's that disposable?" I moved closer to him after that, my voice lowering to a fierce whisper. "She is not your toy. She is my best friend, beautiful and completely worthy of someone's full-encompassing love. She is too good for someone like you, Lucas Friar, someone who treats her like dirt-"

         "I don't have to listen to this shit," he says, yanking out of my grasp with a roll of his eyes and dusting himself off where my fingers had left red nail imprints on his bicep. He acted like he didn't care, like treating you that way was something to be shrugged off. 

        And the volcano explodes.

        I grab the collar of his shirt, yanking him so close I could smell his cologne, and I punch him in the face. He trips backwards from shock and pain, but I don't let go of the blue fabric and he has just enough time, time that I'm reveling in the fact that he's getting what he deserves, to punch me right back. I stumble too, letting go of his shirt. I don't even take time to place a hand on my to-be bruise before shoving him to the ground.

        "Don't mess with my girl," I whisper, my tone livid.

        I kick him once in the side before he grabs my shoe, causing me to lose my balance and fall, bracketing either side of his head with my hands. He grabs my waist to throw me off him, but I knee his groin and roll off of him as he cries out in pain.

        This is where I imagine cartoon dust enveloping us, because we're doing nothing but throwing punches and scratching and smacking and screaming at each other over and over (I get more hits than he does though, no worries there). 

        I'd just managed to get a good one on his lip, busting it open with scarlet blood dripping, when someone yanked me backwards off of him. I scream first, trying to pry myself away, he deserves this, the beating he's taking. I wrap my leg around their's, trying to trip them, but a stern voice stops me so short I can't breathe.

        "Make one more move and it's gonna be expulsion, Riley."

       And guess what? It was my father. I'd never heard his voice more serious and threatening, and it scared me to silence. You know my dad, Maya, he's always laughing or using some goofy voice, but it was like that him was gone. He didn't even loosen his grip on me until we reached the principal's office, where he stood in the corner and glared the entire time.

       I tried to explain over and over again why I'd done it, how he'd said and done awful things, but every time they shut me down. All they saw was an angry teenage girl whose grades had been dipping drastically lashing out at a straight A student, someone with zero bad rep. 

        All they saw was a changed Riley Matthews lashing out at Mr. Perfect.

        And so did you.

                                                                                                                     Riley