The Violence

“I mean, why won’t you kiss me?”

Something inside her rebels at that, as if he’s annoyed that she thought for a minute that he worried about her as a person. He acted like he did, at first. They were friends. They flirted after school every day during drama rehearsals. They would text and chat and send memes and run lines on the bench outside by the parking lot while her friends watched and giggled. But as soon as she agreed to be his girlfriend, as soon as it was established that he could kiss her whenever he wanted to, things changed. He was more…businesslike? It doesn’t feel much like love, she knows that much.

Sure, he gives her a flower on their monthly anniversary, always in front of a crowd, and yes, they’re going to prom, and he’s already coordinated colors with her. But she thought there would be something more. Ongoing tummy flutters and deep conversations and inside jokes and nightly texts telling her to sleep well. She thought there would be sweetness.

He’s never sweet.

She wants to pull away from him, maybe end it, but he’s in drama club, and all their friends are in drama club, and if she dumps him for literally nothing when he’s the perfect boyfriend, they’re all going to turn on her and hate her like they did with his ex Maddie Kim last year and someone will purposefully trip her in front of the entire school during the next play. Because in public, Hayden treats her like a princess.

He puts her on a pedestal.

She wants to jump off.

“It’s just…I’m not that into PDA,” she finally says.

“It’s not PDA. Totally private.”

With a snort, Ella gestures to the busy road on the other side of the school’s chain-link fence.

“Fuck everybody else. I’m just focusing on us, babe.”

He darts in for another kiss, and it’s like being dive-bombed by a seagull, like he’s determined to take whatever he can from her. His hands begin at her hips, squeezing gently, and run up and down her back a few times like he’s going through the motions, and then inch their way around her front, his wide thumbs with their bitten nails probing for the underwire of her bra. She wriggles away from him, hoping he’ll take the hint, but he just doubles down, his eager thumbs digging hard enough to bruise her ribs.

“Come on,” she says, pushing his hands down and holding them firmly. With the brick against her back, shredding her shirt, she can’t pull away. “It’s almost time for next period. Did you study?”

He yanks his hands out of hers and checks his phone, his lips twisted up in annoyance as his eyes reflect the screen. “It’s fine. I always get A’s, anyway.”

And he does. She has to study her ass off because her dad said he’d take her car away if she got bad grades, but Hayden just shrugs his way through class and somehow gets near-perfect grades. He’s smart, he’s in drama, he’s on the baseball team. He’s everywhere. He’s perfect. His dad is a teacher here. And to everyone else, he’s this golden boy.

That’s how Ella saw him, too, at first. In books, the bad boy is really a good boy who shows his good side only to the girl he loves. But in real life, the good boys are all hiding the fact that they’re really bad boys, and no one believes it until it’s too late. That’s why her friend Kaylin got raped by the assistant basketball coach and had to leave school last year. He, of course, is now the head coach. Because there wasn’t any evidence, and when it came down to Kaylin’s word versus everyone else, Kaylin lost. Good basketball coaches are hard to find.

As for Kaylin, the basketball team blamed her for the games they lost. After she got mysteriously shoved during a fire drill stampede and broke her arm, she decided to homeschool. She doesn’t answer Ella’s texts anymore.

“Hey, can you give me a ride home?” Hayden asks. He’s a sophomore and won’t get his brand-new Jeep for a few more months, but she’s been driving her ancient Honda for a year.

“I have to get home and watch Brooklyn,” she lies.

“So drop me on the way. I promise I’ll be good.”

The bell rings, and the door bursts open. Kids hurry in and out, giving her a knowing look that makes her cheeks burn.

“C’mon, babe. Gimme a ride,” he pleads, rubbing her arm. “I’ll behave.”

She doesn’t want to, but she’s ashamed to admit that she knows damn well she’s going to do it anyway.

And she knows damn well he won’t behave.

“I have to go.” She spins and darts into the crowd, ducking her head and turning sideways to squeeze through spaces where Hayden can’t follow.

He knows all her classes and sometimes shows up to joke around with the teachers his dad is friends with. She was impressed at first, but now it almost seems like he’s checking up on her. Sometimes it feels like the only place he can’t find her is the women’s restroom, so that’s where she spends her time between classes when she needs some space. The one at the end of F hall is usually quiet, but today, oddly, her friend Olivia is there.

“Did I see you and Hayden sucking face outside H hall?” she asks as she applies slick pink gloss at the mirror. “I swear, he’s so hot it’s not fair.”

“I know, right?” Ella pulls a brush out of her backpack to smooth down the messy effects of the brick wall and Hayden’s hands. She never knows what to say when her friends gush about Hayden, but she knows that anything bad she says will get back to him somehow. That makes one of her friends a bad friend, but she doesn’t know who it is, and she suspects all of them would be glad to take her place.

Or at least they think they would.

A toilet flushes, and Sophie steps out of a stall. There are three mirrors, and now Ella is at the center sink with a girl on either side applying makeup and glancing at her in a smiling, measuring way. They’re pretty much her best friends, or they once were. They’ve been tight since middle school and used to do sleepovers all the time, when they were younger, but this feels more like an ambush than a casual bathroom meetup. Olivia and Sophie are always together these days, and Ella usually feels left out. Now, not so much.

“I know what Hayden got you for your three-month anniversary,” Sophie sings, glopping on more mascara. “You’re so going to love it.”

“Because you helped him pick it out!” Olivia giggles, her eyes alight. “You didn’t answer my texts the whole time you guys were at the outlet mall.”

Sophie rolls her eyes. “Oh my God, you know we’re just friends!”

Everything is light and playful and sweet, like it’s a game to them, but the sort of game that was designed so that Ella would lose no matter what.

“And I know what he wants from you. It’s cheap and easy…” Olivia clears her throat to get Ella’s attention and makes a very specific gesture.

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