You're Not Enough

Chapter 35

My father burst through the office doors, with Ms.Moore right behind him, "Jayda! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine" I stand up from the chair, grabbing my book bag off the floor. I'm so ready to go.

He looks me up and down. "Do you want to go to the ho--"

I cut him off before he can finish his sentence. "No. I just want to go home." The last thing I need right now is to sit in the hospital; I know he's only asking me this because he thinks I'm going to try to kill myself.

"Okay." He digs into his pocket and then pulls out his keys.

"Go ahead to the car. I have to sign you out." I take the keys out of his hand and walk out of the office.

"I'll see you tomorrow Jayda." Ms. Moore says before I walk out.

Classes have started now, so there is no one in the hallways. I keep my head down and walk out the main doors. It's sunny today. The sun hits my face soon as I step outside.

As I walk down the stairs. I hear the doors open again. I know it's not my father. I don't know how, but I know it's not him.

"Jayda!" Ryder calls. I had a gut feeling it was him.

"Jayda." He calls again. I continue walking to the car. I don't stop; I don't turn around; I need to get away from him as fast as possible. My father's black SUV is across the lot; I press the button on the keys to unlock the door. It clicks open. As soon as I open the door, it is immediately slammed back.

I can feel his heavy breathing on the back of my neck. His hand is above my head on the car door, keeping it closed. He's so close. I can feel the heat projecting off his body on mine.

"Turn around!" He commands me. I don't. I rest my head against the car, trying to steady my breathing. Whenever I am around him, my heart rate instantly rises and not in a good way.

"Look at me!" He commands again, yelling a little louder; it makes me jump. Both of his arms grab me and turn me around, forcing me to look at him. I jerk away from out of his grasp. Surprisingly he releases.

"I'm sorry, okay. I didn't know she was going to tell people." He runs his finger through his black hair.

"You're only sorry because I found out!"

"That's not true." he snarls.

"Yes, it is. If I never found out, you were never going to say anything. I just...I just don't understand why you and everyone else do this to me. What did I ever do to deserve all these lies and rumors?" I'm crying now. I don't even try to hold them back. I don't care if he sees me crying anymore.

"Fuck!" He slams his hand against the car. "You didn't do anything; it's just something that we do because... because--"

"Because I'm below you." I refer to what he said a few days ago.

"You're not below me." He says sternly.

"Right, I forgot I was rich. So is it because I'm not popular? Is it because I'm not a rich, popular self-centered bitch?"

"I don't want you to be any of those things. You can be yourself."

"I can't be myself because you and everyone here have made an image of me, and I never had the opportunity to--"

He cuts me off. "No, that's your fucking fault. 9th grade, you were in everything; you did everything. You played volleyball. You came to games. You were at parties. You were in plays. You stopped doing all those things. You were fine, and then you just stopped. So what were people supposed to think?"