The Fifteen

Chapter 14: Green Monsters

Quinn's POV:

He followed her around like a lost puppy, his eyes sparkling and hair tousled as if they had a make out session. He could make her laugh without so much of a thought. 

She had someone else pinning for her. Theodore.

I glanced around at anything but her.

A knot formed in my stomach, my heart thudded and my jaw clenched.

Get over yourself, Quinn.

"Dude, you alright? You seem out of it."

"I'm good, just wish they'd get the god damn lists out already. Shit, they take forever." I lied.

Raymond nodded, silently agreeing.

There was some truth behind that, I wasn't the most patient person out there but seeing her with another guy, it made me see red. Not the colour of the rose petal leading to the first date, not the tint of her lipstick smeared across my mouth but the angry red. The red that kills with a punching fist full of pure vex. The red that squeezes every particle of air out of the victim's lungs because of a torturous hand, snaked around their neck like a grapevine. The red that sends that jackass to the depths of hell itself. The red that burns every being within looking distance, from the soul out.

It was doltish of me to think that on a lone encounter, we could blossom into more. More than friends. More than best friends. And maybe even more than friends with benefits.

Maybe Theodore was winning this phrase, but the war hadn't even started. It just began. And I was warming up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

"Quinn! You have a call." A woman entered the room.

"Tell them to fuck off." I was the least to say, beyond pissed. After the announcement, Illa got lost in the crowd and I could only guess where she went.

"It's your father." I froze. It was the only thing I could do. It was as if time itself had stopped. I scowled.

"Tell that son of a bitch to fuck off. He's not my father." I said through my teeth, venom dripping off the statements.

"He doesn't want to talk to you."

"He clearly doesn't want to talk to you."

"He more than hates you, okay? Get that through your head." She turned a shade of ghostly pale, eyes widened and the only colour on her was the blue shirt and shorts she wore.

She sucked in a hard breath, "Listen here, you punk. You don't know anything."

I looked up, sensing her discomfort and disbelief, chuckling.

"I'll talk to that bastard, if you're alright."

"Y-yeah." The woman gave me a hopeful smile, "Maybe you're not so bad, Quinn. Here," Her smile was replaced with an angry expression. "talk to that fucking retard whose sperm made you."

I took the phone off her and growled, "I thought you left the country, you left my mother, me and you fucking took Eva away from any love or support she could fucking get from her family. You are-"

"Now is not the time to scold me, son."

"It is the perfect time to scold you. I'm not your son!"

"Besides, why are you mad? Eva is fine. She has all the love and support she needs from me."

"If crying herself to sleep is your definition of fine, then you are more retarded than I thought you would be."