This Dream is a Killer

how easily passion twists

College graduation was fast approaching, and I couldn't bear to even think about not being able to see Jase every day. Through the year, I had continued building my confidence with Mr Taylor, who noticed my fascination with him. Of course, Mr Taylor described Jase as a usual jock, although smarter than most. He would jump from girlfriend to girlfriend to boyfriend to girlfriend. Being raised in the home I was, it was taught that the only acceptable relationship was a Male with a female who would then have a baby boy, but I admired that he was so open to relationships. When he was confronted about it in class once, his response was simply 'My dick doesn't have a preference'.

I was expecting everyone to scream homophobic remarks at him, but the snarky comment about his sexual preferences was carefully constructed to cater to them, keeping up his social status while staying true to himself. This was something I admired within him — his fearlessness to society. He had dated most people in school and was known for being a player, which made me even more attracted to him.

"Woah, sorry. Didn't see you there," Jase said after accidentally bumping into me. The things I was carrying dropped down onto the floor, my notebook landing open face down. I panicked with what to say and smiled, then started picking my things up. I went for the notebook but another hand gripped it before I had the chance. I quickly gathered the rest of my things and looked up to his friend who had the notebook.

"Why do you bother writing out conversations if you can't talk?" He asked. I reached for the notebook, fear shooting through every inch of my body. This wasn't perfect. Perfect people don't drop their books. Perfect people don't get scared.

"She can," Jase said after a while. My eyes widened. "I heard her talking to Mr Taylor. After I caught her the first time, I heard her telling him that she has to practice just saying words every night because she's so scared she'll mess up talking," he continued. I stared up at Jase. I had always been obsessed with being perfect and this was not perfect. I didn't know how to play it off. Words weren't coming to my brain fast enough for me to be able to say them. I stuttered out a quiet "i-i...", causing a laugh to flutter through them.

I was panicking. Every single piece of confidence I had built up this year was breaking apart.

"Everything okay here?" I heard Mr Taylor say.

"What's the deal with Kate? Why won't she talk?" His friend asked Mr Taylor. I was afraid to do anything. There was no perfect outcome. I couldn't run away because he'd still have my notebook, I couldn't just grab it because he was holding it so tightly, the only even slightly okay outcome would be me asking for the notebook back.

But I couldn't.

"I don't think that's any of your business. Give the notebook back and get to lunch," he said sternly. A tear escaped my eye and I quickly wiped it. I heard another snicker, then a sigh.

"If she apologises," I looked up at Jase as he said it quietly. My heart was aching. Why was the person I'm in love with so cruel to me?

"From what I saw, she didn't do anything in the first place—"

"She bumped into me. I just want an apology," it was silent for a minute as Mr Taylor waited to see if I was able to. I tried my absolute hardest to say something, but I was so afraid. Afraid that the word wouldn't come out right and they'd laugh at me. A few more tears fell and I quickly wiped them away.

"Give it to me or you'll be in detention after school for the next two weeks,"

Jase and his friend looked at each other, before setting the notebook down and walking out.

"Are you okay?" He asked. I walked to the door to watch Jase walk away with his friend, especially eyeing his friend, feeling nothing out pure anger and hatred.

He's next