I kicked the school's double doors open without caring if I was being rude. My mind wasn't even here — it was still trapped three days ago, replaying Justin's face over and over.
Clay said he's on drugs now. Just hearing it shattered something inside me. He always blamed his mother for not being a good parent — for being high all the time, out of herself. And now he's doing the exact same thing.
Why is he destroying himself like this? Is he punishing himself for hurting Jessica? Or is he punishing himself for leaving me completely alone?
Well, to be honest, Bryce took care of me — but it's not the same. I don't love Bryce. I love Justin. And I wanted him to take care of me... not a fucking rapist.
I was lost in that spiral when I suddenly bumped into someone.
"Shit, sorry." I looked up and saw Bryce smiling at me.
"Hey..." he said softly, but his smile faded when I didn't return it. "What happened?"
"Nothing." I shook my head, biting my lower lip.
"I know when you're lying," he said. "Justin used to do the same thing — shake his head, bite his lip, look away."
I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out. So I just closed it again.
"It's just this whole thing about Hannah's trial," I muttered, staring at the floor. "And today Marcus is going to testify."
He pulled me into a hug and began stroking my hair. My entire body went rigid.
"You're going to testify, aren't you?" he asked quietly.
"I don't know."
He nodded, then smiled again — that same confident grin that always seemed rehearsed.
"Whatever you choose, I bet it's for the best." He squeezed my arms gently before walking away.
I watched him go, sighing, then turned back toward my locker.
Clay was leaning against it, and I instantly rolled my eyes in annoyance.
"The fuck you want?" I asked, yanking the metal door open and pulling a few notebooks out.
"He needs you," Clay said. "And I know you need him." I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.
"I don't need him. And he definitely doesn't need me. He left me, remember?" I slammed my locker shut, the sound echoing down the hall.
"Please! Just come over and talk to him." I shook my head, unwilling to budge. "Winter, I need you," he added, desperation in his voice. I stopped walking and turned to glare at him. "We all do..." he said, softer this time.
I looked away, scratching the back of my head, torn between pride and heartbreak. My thoughts were screaming at me in opposite directions — go to him, don't go to him, he'll hurt you again, but what if he needs you this time?
"We'll see, okay?" Clay exhaled in relief, but my stomach twisted painfully. "Don't get your hopes up," I muttered before walking off.
I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to hold my tears back. But, of course, I failed.
~||~
When I reached my car, I noticed Marcus standing nearby with a bag on the ground. I raised an eyebrow, curious, leaning against my car door as I watched him.
He pulled a shirt from the bag — and suddenly it exploded.
I gasped, covering my mouth as laughter burst out of me. Quickly, I grabbed my phone and snapped a few pictures to send to Bryce and Clay.
