I Slapped Mr. Popular

37

Monday comes too soon. I beg Kyle to let me stay home, but he reuses. "You're going to have face them sooner than later," he says.

"It just happened Saturday!" I exclaim.

"Sorry, Braelyn. I can't be getting in trouble for keeping you out of school," Kyle replies, ending the conversation.

I spend as much time as possible getting dressed. When I go into the bathroom, I stare at myself in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes, dark circles under my eyes, blotched face. All the crying I did Saturday, all day Sunday, and last night has made its mark.

I apply some concealer to my face then brush my teeth. Deciding not to put any more effort, I pull my hair into a messy bun. Yes, I may look like a crack head, but at this point, I couldn't care less.

I open the bathroom door, and I come face to face with Nathan. He takes in my appearance. "C'mon, I'll take you to school," He says softly then disappears down the hall.

I let out a huff, hurry to my room, and grab everything I need. Nathan and Nick wait patiently for me at the bottom of the stairs, glancing at me before we all head out. The ride to school is silent, and I wish I made myself late when I was getting ready. We get to the school twenty minutes before homeroom starts, and I exit the car. People stare at me and whisper to their friends.

I groan, pulling my hood over my head and shoving my hands into the pocket of my hoodie. I hurry to my locker, and that's where I find Emma, Marcus, and Xavier. "Wow, you look like crap," Marcus says.

"Marcus, I'm not in the mood," I say tiredly.

Emma places a hand on my arm. "I got worried when you wouldn't answer my calls. I stopped by yesterday, but Kyle said that you didn't want to see anyone."

"I didn't," I shrug, grabbing my books for first period.

"Are you okay?"

I look at her. "You know the answer, Emma, so I don't know why you're asking," I say before slamming my locker. She jumps, and I hurry to homeroom.

I stare at my feet the entire way. I only look up when I see someone step in my way, and it turns out to be Ridge. "Brael-" he starts.

"I have nothing to say to you," I say, stepping around him and bumping shoulders. He doesn't follow me, and for that, I'm thankful.
××××××
Thirty minutes later I have to face Ridge again, mostly because I have first period with him. Did I mention I also have third, lunch, fourth, and my free period with him? No? Well, I do, so this is just the start to my torture.

When the class period starts, I feel his eyes on me. It takes everything in my power not to look to my right, which mean right at him. Halfway through class, this girl beside me places a note on my desk. I look at her, and she nods her head toward Ridge.

After a moment of debating, I open it.

Will you please meet me in the stadium, so we can talk about this?

I look at Ridge, and he's already staring at me. I hold up the note then rip it into tiny pieces. I get an annoyed look from our teacher, and I send him an apologetic smile. Five minutes later another note lands on my desk.

I'm sorry. I just want to fix things between us.

This time I write back.

There's nothing to fix. There wasn't anything whole in the beginning.

I hand it to the girl, who hands it to Ridge. His face twists into a pained expression before he meets my eyes. They fill with tears before he looks away.
××××××
I don't see Ridge for the rest of the day. From the whispers, he got sick, and his mom signed him out. I'm glad. Lunch goes by smoothly, seeing that I avoided my friends and sat alone in the cafeteria at a table.

I decide to walk home that afternoon to try to clear my head. Ridge's face and everything that happened at prom stuck in my head, and before I know it, I'm crying and sprinting home. The pain is excruciating, and I just want it to stop.

Slamming the door behind me, I hurry up to my room and collapse onto my bed. I muffle my sobs and screams in one of my pillows. My phone begins to ring, but I let it when I see it's Emma. I curl myself into a ball and tuck myself under the covers.

How could I fall in love with someone like Ridge McCain? I knew his reputation; I knew how many hearts he had broken. Still, I let myself fall. It's like I learned absolutely nothing from Jared. Ridge was just like him.

Was.

Why am I speaking about him in the past tense?

Ridge is like Jared. Popular, handsome, smooth talker, and a player. How could I fall for someone like that...again? Was I really that blind? Did I really not see who Ridge really was?

The sobs become louder, and I stick my face into my pillow. There's a soft knock on my door, and I look up. The last person I ever expected to see is standing in the door way.

She's dressed in her army uniform, and her dark hair is tied back into a bun. She still looks the same: tan skin, warm brown eyes, high cheekbones. She stares at me with a cautious smile.

"Hi, honey."

I stare at her in disbelief. The thoughts of Ridge and Jared and every other worry I was just thinking about disappears. I can't make my mouth form any words. Instead, the tears start up again, and I run over to her, breathing in her familiar scent.

My mother always had perfect timing.