What Lurks Beneath the Surface ✔️

chapter four

I feel everyone's eyes on me as I walk the halls Monday morning. For a moment, I wonder if I have something on my face. Perhaps my shirt is inside-out?

Then I remember the whole punching-Fiona-in-the-face debacle that occured yesterday, and everything suddenly makes sense.

"Oh, my god," I whisper to myself once I've reached my locker. I quickly grab my books and book it to my first class, anxious for this day to be over.

The following days exhibit a similar pattern. Everybody stares at me, but no one says a word. If I didn't know any better, I'd say they were afraid.

On Thursday, Nash approaches me in the cafeteria. His arms are crossed, his steel-colored eyes fixed in an icy glare. I close my textbook and force a smile, but he doesn't return the gesture.

"We need to talk," he declares.

I nod my head. "Okay, let's talk."

He claims the seat adjacent to mine and exhales a heavy sigh. "Vange, I get that I fucked up, but you punched Fiona. Her nose is broken. She hasn't left her house in days."

"Yeah, I've been meaning to call her," I murmur.

"I'm not asking you to apologize or anything. I just want to know what the fuck got into you," he relents. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was worried.

"I don't know," I admit. "I was out of line. I'll apologize to Fi, I promise."

"Vange, I know you. What happened the other day... well, that wasn't you at all," Nash says. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I lie. "I have to go. I'll see you around, okay?"

I rush out of the cafeteria. I haven't spoken to Nash since we broke up. This wasn't how I imagined our first conversation going.

The following Monday, everything seems to have calmed down. People no longer stare at me as I walk down the hall. I don't hear my classmates whispering about me behind my back. Once again, I'm a nobody—just the way I like it.

"I think the whole Violent Vange thing has finally blown over," Kira says as we walk out of the building.

"Thank the heavens!" I reply. "Some girls thrive in the spotlight. I'm not one of them."

We walk toward Kourtney. As I'm about to open the passenger side door, I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder. I turn around and spot Rem, whose Mustang is parked three spaces over.

"Hey, punchy," he says with a chuckle.

Maybe people haven't forgotten just yet....

"Hi, Rem," I respond. "Wh-what's up?"

"Can I give you a ride home?" he asks, pointing to the green luxury vehicle that I've sat in once before.

I shake my head. "Kira usually brings me—"

"Actually, I can't today," my best friend interrupts. "I have to... take my dog to the vet."

"What? You don't even have a—"

"Awesome! Thanks for giving her a ride, Rem." Kira winks at me before jumping into her car and taking off, leaving me alone with Remington.

"She's really subtle," he jokes.

"Kira prides herself on being a straight-shooter," I reply, following him to his car. Once again, he opens my door for me.

I could get used to this.

"So why'd you want to give me a ride?" I question him once we're on the road.

"Uh, I wanted to talk to you about the other night," he answers. "You came onto me pretty hard at Fiona's party, and you seemed pretty hurt when I... rejected your advances. I just wanted to make sure we were cool."