i'm sorry.

me.

     fortunately, a couple of weeks later, we were paired up together for a project. we were forced to communicate again.

     you seemed nervous at first, as if you were preparing yourself to be bombarded with questions. when i didn't speak, you relaxed.

     "it's going to take a while to do this." you finally said, your voice small and quiet. i only nodded.

     the class ended and we hadn't talked any more than a few words. when i went home, i thought of you.

     i wondered how you were doing. i hadn't noticed any bruises, but maybe you were just getting better at hiding them.

     i came up to you after class to talk to you. i knew you were going to hate me for it, but i had thought about it a lot and it was the best choice. i wanted you to have a better life.

     "hey," i said, disrupting you from your reading. "can we talk for a bit?"

     i saw a flash of worry in your eyes but it was gone as soon as it appeared. you nodded reluctantly.

     a few minutes later and we were sitting face to face, neither of us saying a word. i cleared my throat suddenly and you looked up at me.

     "i told my mom about your dad." i bluntly said, my heart pounding out of my chest.

"you what?" you said. you had straightened your posture, eyes narrowed.

"i told someone because you need to get help." i repeated. i seemed calm on the surface, but on the inside i was screaming.

i had expected you to be happy or grateful, in all honesty. i had not thought for one second you would be angry.

"why would you do that?" you asked. your voice was growing louder by the second. we were attracting the eyes of people around us. my heart continued to beat faster.

"i-i just thought—" i stuttered, but you cut me off.

"you thought what? that you'd be helping me?" you asked, laughing bitterly. "i'm tired of other people trying to fix my problems. stay out of my life."

you got up and walked away from me, not sparing a glance.