Evol

chapter thirty-three

Monday 24th June, 2019

I sat in my car with a ridiculously bright smile on my face.

My mind uncontrollably wandered to Friday night and the morning after. I'd woken up alone, the warmth and comfort of Julian gone, but I hadn't expected him to stay. The maths worksheet I'd stressed over was lying on my desk, perfectly filled out. Julian.

I had called him and texted him a couple of times, but no reply came all weekend. The only text I'd gotten was one from Carter, one that worried at my mind. It was one line:

I'll teach you how to defend yourself.

But I'd pushed it to the back of my mind; everything was made hazy beneath the cloud of bliss in my mind. Julian finally seemed to be opening up. Finally.

I did an embarrassing jig in my car before pulling down the drive and going to school, tapping on the steering wheel to the beat of the radio.

When I parked, I leant over the window and checked myself in the mirror. My hair looked somewhat tamed, the bronze waves almost impossible calm, and my glasses were low on my nose. I smiled, and let my eyes drift, heart starting to speed when I spotted him.

Julian looked effortlessly gorgeous, leaning on the hood of his classic, a tight black T on and jeans, a pesky cigarette in his hand. He was laughing at something one of the boys said, curls shaking with his body.

I'd been looking forward to seeing him all weekend. Clambering out, I swung my backpack on and walked over, careful not to look too eager.

When I was a few metres away, he turned to look at me, and the wide smile reduced to a smirk. I waved, beaming, ignoring the watchful eyes surrounding us.

"Hey," I said when I was close enough.

His brown eyes raked me up and down in a way that immediately set me on edge. There was something strange in his eyes, almost predatory. . . I swallowed thickly.

"Hi, baby." He said.

I ignored the flip in my stomach at his odd, condescending tone. "Why did you dodge my calls?" I asked.

Julian's smirk grew, and something dangerous glinted in his eyes. "I don't have to answer calls from temporary bitches like you."

I stood there for a long moment. I had no reaction to what he said - I didn't even blink.

Then, "what did you just call me?"

Julian rolled his eyes, "a temporary bitch."

I stumbled back when it hit me. "B-bitch?"

"Yes." Julian brought the cigarette to his mouth, took a long, uncaring drag. His dancing eyes were hidden by the smoke for a moment, releasing me from that poisonous gaze. "My bitch," he said. "A fling."

I saw a wave coming toward me, a wave of pain. I knew, right then, that it would crush me. "A fling? What are you talking about, Julian?" I asked, desperate.

Julian chuckled blackly, pushing curls out of his eyes. "The new girl is always an interesting idea. . . But you're far from interesting. I'm bored." His eyes found mine. I searched wildly for any kindness or care in them, but they were cold and hard as stone.

I was looking at a stranger.

"You're bored?" I whispered.

He nodded. "Very bored. Unless. . . You're willing to offer something worth my while?" I watched, sickened, as he raised his eyebrows suggestively.

My mind caught up to the situation, and I wasn't dazed anymore. "You're sick." I spat.

"Tell me something I don't know."

I stepped forward, in his face. Shock pulsed in his eyes and he swallowed before the antagonizing smirk returned. "I'll tell you something you don't know," I hissed, rage and pain taking control. "I never looked at you and saw what you are. I never watched what you did and listened to what you said and judged you. And I'll bet I'm the only person who could have looked at you and felt anything other than fear. So fuck you, Julian."

I reached out, snatched the burning cigarette out of his hand, and pushed the tip into his chest. It seared through the thin cotton, burning the skin before I let it drop. Julian didn't even blink.

I smiled at him, but it was a mask to hide the pain tearing me up inside. The embarrassment. The disappointment.

Because even after everything, I'd been stupid enough to think the good parts of him could have outweighed the bad.

"I was wrong." I told him, and had the satisfaction of seeing than pretentious smile drop. "You are a monster."

And with that, I walked away.

Only five minutes later, I'd ran through the hallways and while everyone was in assembly, I sat on a toilet seat and sobbed.

Pain was ripping through my chest, the choked cries loud in the quiet of the bathroom. So it had all been a lie? A bit of. . . Fun for Julian?

It sickened me. He sickened me.

I sickened myself. I'd told him I loved him! The thought of when I told him that, thinking maybe he felt the same, made me lean forward and hold myself together by the waist. He didn't care. He never had.

I saw his face, painfully clear and beautiful, in the back of my head. It made everything less hazy all of a sudden. Sharper.

The tears stopped dropping, and I stared at the white cubicle door in front of me, enraged. With shaking fingers, I dug my phone out of my pocket. Clicking on the most recent text, I felt the welcome heat of defiance in my body. Julian might not care about me, but I could still shove something in his face.

Quickly, I texted Carter back: Great. When are you free?

+++

In maths, I walked up to the bin, crushed the homework with Julian's handwriting all of it into an angry ball and threw it away.

Amy looked up from our table. "Why did you do that?" She asked.

I smiled tightly. "Too many mistakes."

"Oh," she mumbled, and then beamed with hot pink painted lips. "You can look at mine if you want?"

"Thanks," I said, and copied up.

At lunch, we gathered on the grass. Brendan was watching me warily, as if he sensed something was wrong, but I was sure I didn't look like I'd been crying. My appetite had completely deserted me, a throbbing ache in my chest was all I could feel.

But I was grateful; I knew it would get worse later, when I was alone.

Amy nudged me, "he's watching you."

A searing pain shot through me. For a moment, I debated ignoring him. But what good had that ever done? So, I swallowed my pain and humiliation, and shifted to face him.

Julian and his little clan were sprawled on the grass a few metres behind us. They were all chatting, except for him; his arms were folded behind his head, dark eyes staring holes in my face.

He grinned mockingly when I turned.

Smiling, I saw the confusion in his eyes at how nice I seemed, how forgiving, and then his slow blink at my next move. I gave him the middle finger, mouthed "I'm not your bitch" and turned away.