Against The Odds: Guarded

46

MAYA POV

Rage is a funny feeling to have. It seems to sneak up on you when you least expect it and when you feel it, you know that it’s not just one emotion. When it’s defined in the dictionary, it’s said to be a violent or uncontrollable anger, but to me that definition seems to sell itself short. The rage that I felt came from a mixture of emotions that has been building up and it’s not from just over the month and a half that I’ve been here recently, no. It was the proper emotional build up that I’ve had since the day that I slept with Peyton. There was self-loathing, hurt, anxiety, and loneliness, and betrayal, absolute and utter anguish, and then anger.

No emotion stands alone. Usually when you feel one, another builds right behind it, but the only way that they can begin to build is from a trigger, something that sets off the initial feeling and has the others fall in line behind it like a domino effect. When Peyton touched my arm, he became that trigger and every negative emotion that I’ve been feeling overtime towards myself, him, and his effect on mine and Lucas relationship built one behind the other pushing me until my palm made contact with his face.

The noise from the slap was so loud that it echoed in the hallway and I’m sure that my wrist snapped after I hit him, but once I started I couldn’t stop. Rage had ensued and fighting Peyton off releasing everything that I’ve held pent up inside felt great. Even though it only lasted a few seconds, it felt like I had been hitting him for more than five minutes. Peyton’s initial shock after the first slap seemed to have left him in a daze, but after I had hit him a second time, he had me pinned against the wall of the empty hallway much like how Lucas had pinned me against the wall of my hotel suite when we had sex the first time after I returned.

Tears began to stream down my face not because I was scared or upset, but because I was so angry with him. I’ve never hated anyone before, but Peyton might be the first. My breathing was rugged and though he held me to the wall by my arm, I still strained against him to get away from his grasp. His face flashed with anger at first, but quickly turned into something else making me feel sick to my stomach.

“Peyton let me go! Get off of me!” I wanted to shout so that someone could see what he was doing to me, but my voice only went an octave or two above a whisper.

“Where the fuck do you get off?! Hmm? After everything that I did for you, this is how you treat me? You’re ungrateful and you deserved it! I was-” Peyton cut off his own sentence and kept the hushed tone going as he looked up and down the hallways to be sure that no one else was coming. My handprint was a clear welt on his left cheek and I wanted badly to give him a matching one on his left.

“Peyton let go!” My voice finally raised and he released my wrist but still stayed close, leaning his arm on the wall to have the illusion that I was pinned. He opened his mouth to speak again, but when we heard students coming out of their classes, I took the opportunity to push past him and make my way to the bathrooms to compose myself.

I know I have to tell Dr. Koch, things have gone too far now, the only thing that worries me is what Harry’s reaction will be. He’s too temperamental and I don’t want to make things worse for him than they already are. He has enough pressure on him, but it feels like they’re there mostly because of me. I wiped my eyes and fixed my eyeliner as much as I could before I pressed on to the cafeteria to get Dr. Koch his tea.

Peyton didn’t come back into the office until the welt on his face was down to a less noticeable mark but for the remainder of the day, I could feel his eyes on me. I told myself as soon as I could get the chance to, I would bring our altercation to Dr. Koch’s attention.

As the day came to a close, Peyton walked out of the office past me quickly and I lingered behind while Dr. Koch gathered his things. For once he’s leaving the office with everyone else and not staying behind alone. I’m straightened up my desk for tomorrow and cleaned it out, waiting until the last possible minute to try and figure out how to bring this to his attention, without saying too much that he doesn’t need to know.