The Fighters

Chapter 11

SONG - "Beautiful Soul" by Jonah Baker

Dylan POV

Dick.

Asswipe.

Motherfucki-

"Dylan!"

I kept on walking.

"Dylan, please stop!"

Walking.

"Princess, I'm sorry. Please just-"

"Fuck. You." I spat, turning around to shove him away from me. "Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fu-"

"Prin-"

"FUCK YOU BLAISE. I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU!" I yelled at him, hitting his chest with my closed fists while hot tears poured down my face.

"Princess." He held my shoulders firmly so that I would stop hitting him. "Just hear me out please."

"Yeah right. Like I'm actually going to listen to whatever bullshit comes out of your mouth."

He looked frustrated, "watch you mouth babe."

I scoffed, "my mouth? Oh sorry, I thought it was you who insinuated I was a whore!"

"No! I didn't mean it. I really didn't. You don't understand how hard it is for me to-"

"Yeah, I don't. And you don't know hard it is for me to live. You don't know how much I dread going home everyday, just because I'm afraid of my mother and sister and what they will do to me," I sobbed.

His facial expression changed into one of sympathy and regret. "You don't have to go home, you can always-"

"Pfft. I rather be beaten to a pulp by my family than have to even see you again." I spat with and icy tone to my voice, which was foreign to me.

He looked hurt.

Like really hurt.

"I'm really sorry Dylan," he said, his head down.

"Tell someone who cares, you prick." I said finally, and stormed off down the street towards my house.

Before I turned the corner, I heard a loud shout and a bang. Turning around I saw that he had kicked his car door so that there was a noticeable dent. He was now sitting on the ground leaning against his car, his shoulders shaking.

He was crying.

When I reached my house, I took a deep breath before entering.

It was silent.

I went up stairs, still being cautious that they could still be home. When I got to my room, I threw the closest thing I could reach at the wall. It was a photo frame.

A picture of my Dad and I.

I ran over to pick it up, cutting myself on the glass due to my hands shaking. I took out the photo, staring down at it while sliding down the wall.

"Why did you have to leave me Daddy?" I whispered, before a new round of sobs wracked my body.

After a while I finally made my way into the shower, washing myself thoroughly, as though I could scrub away all my problems. Sadly I couldn't. My mind kept drifting back to Blaise.

Was I too harsh?

Was he really sorry?

I shook my head. I really needed to stop thinking about him. But I couldn't. Even though what he said was uncalled for and hurt me, he looked to upset.

Worse.

He looked sad.

Not the, he looks a bit sad.

But the, he is really sad.

Like deep down.

What could have happened to him? I thought.

My thinking was cut off when my phone rang. I dried myself off quickly and ran to my bed, before jumping on it to answer my phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi sweetie, how are you?" A familiar voice asked.

I bit my lip, "Maggie... I-I could be better," I said truthfully.

"Yes, well, I'm sure we all could. Do you know where Blaise is?"

"What do you mean?" I said sitting up abruptly.

"He hasn't come home since he left to drop you off."

"Oh."

"Yes, anyways, if you don't know where he is that's ok. Hopefully he'll come back soon. Bye darl!"

"Wait Maggie!" I exclaimed, standing up and pacing around my room.

"Yes?"

"Um, well Blaise and I... we.... We had another fight. A bad one," I managed to get out, between biting my nails and stuttering.

"Oh."

"Yes oh." I hope she wasn't mad.

What if it was my fault that Blaise didn't go back home?

What if something had happened to him?

"How bad?" I could hear the hesitance in her voice.

"Like really bad. He got mad because... because I said that there was nothing going one between us- then he basically called me a..." I sighed.

"Just say it sweetie."

"A whore."

"Oh goodness!" I heard her screech.

"Yes, well, this got me mad and told him to stop the car. Which he did and I started walking home. Then he tried apologising, but I said some... colourful words let's say, and said that I never wanted to see him again. And that is basically it."

"Lord almighty. That boy, I swear to God..." she trailed off, and I could hear her shuffling around her house.

"Alright. I'm really sorry darl, I'm going to have to go, but we need to catch up soon okay?"

"Sure, just message when you're free."

"Okay, bye Dylan!" And she hung up.

Even though I was pretty damn mad and Blaise, I hoped he was alright.

I was relieved when I saw Blaise enter the school car park on Monday. But I pretended I didn't see him.

I had spent Saturday afternoon with Jamie, and she helped to keep my mind off of Blaise. She was downright furious when I told her what had happened on Friday night. Sunday I caught up on my studies, hoping that if I put all my energy into that then I would have none left to think about Blaise.

That didn't work though.

But as I watched him make his way down the hall with a frown, I couldn't help but feel bad for the way I spoke to him.

Jamie walked over to me, "I hope you're not feeling guilty Dylan," she warned.

"I'm not..."

"Whatever, I can read you like a book. Just because he is one hunk of man, doesn't mean that what he said was ok," she said sternly.

"I know, I know. But don't you think I was a bit harsh too?" I asked, unsure of my thoughts.

"Girl, you went easy on him. If I were you, I would've kicked him in the balls and-"

I covered her mouth while laughing, "I know you would. Let's just forget about for now okay?"

"Okay," she agreed. "Good luck in health by the way."

"SHIT!"

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