The Boy and the Beast

27| dauntless

I could see Dominic's friends off the horizon of the park. I feel my blood boiling, but I swallow down my anger. This was a scam, just like they tried with the freshman boy.

Unfortunately I'm not fucking blind.

I was once. Once I thought this boy reciprocated emotions. I thought he loved and appreciated me for my flaws. He said I was unique, an enigma, just like he was to me.

Alistair Riley is not blind.

I'm over this. I've been through the mocking before, and I've survived. I know what I should do to defend myself.

"No." I shake my head, backing up slowly, crossing my arm over my chest. "You—this, this is all just fucking bullshit."

Dominic cocks me an eyebrow, but within seconds, his face drops with realization.

"No—no! Alistair, this isn't," his voice is a whisper, a poorly, lowly whisper, as if he's scared of me.

"Tell the fucking truth, Dom," I berate. "Why the fuck are your friends over there, holding a video camera? Why did you have a sudden interest in me?"

Dominic gulps, his Adam's apple bopping to the accentuated movement. His eyes shutter down to the ground, his hands fidgeting. His hair creates a perfect curtain for him to hide away from me.

"Was this a...a prank?"

"Was—"

"Confess already, cockeyed fagot!" The voice shatters my eardrums as Faye pitches up with her small army behind her. She's alive and well in all five foot glory of her being, her thick, green dreads tangling down to her hips and her skin penetrated with so many pieces of metal. She could easily be the trigger to the airport security everyone gets annoyed about.

"Confess. You fell in love with our persuasive, sexy, rockstar, Dom—"

I shoot Dominic a warning glare before backing up into a chest. A wave of nausea rushes over my body as the sudden nostalgia slams into me.

This is middle school all over again.

This is exactly why I told no one about my eyes. I never showed my eyes to any person, because they picked on me for having it. I didn't want to be born like the runt of the pack, but I am and the only thing I can do was hope that he wouldn't tell, but he did.

He broke my promise, again.

He keeps on breaking me; my promises, my heart, my head. He's out with a ski mask, battering me with compliments just to find the thinned out protective layer to hit with a sledgehammer.

"I feel shit," I growl at the hazel-eyed monster.

"That's not what Dominic said—"

"I didn't tell him shit," I argue, even though I know I'm lying. Always lying.

"Oh, really?" She hisses, sarcastically. I suddenly wish Braxton were here to help me. He has his ways of defeating the stereotype. "Then you have a little bit of amnesia, because we remember—"