Losing Hope

“A bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”
    I keep my eyes locked on hers as I process her comment. She’s comparing me to Grayson ?
    I have to turn away from her so she doesn’t see the disappointment on my face. I grip the back of my neck with both hands, then slowly turn back around to face her, but I keep my eyes trained on the floor.
    “Did he hit you,” I say with a defeated sigh. I look back up at her and directly into her eyes. “Has he ever hit you?”
    She doesn’t flinch or look away. She just shakes her head. “No,” she says softly. “And no. I told you . . . it was an accident.”
    I can tell by her reaction that she’s telling the truth. He didn’t hit her. He never hit her, and I’m more than relieved. But still confused. If she’s not dating him and he really didn’t hit her, then what’s her connection to him? Does she want to date him? Because I sure as hell don’t want her to.
    The bell rings right when I open my mouth to ask her what her relationship is with Grayson. The hallway fills with students and she breaks eye contact with me, then walks back toward the cafeteria.
    • • •
    I haven’t seen Daniel again. I also didn’t have another class with Sky, which disappoints me. I don’t know why, though. We can’t seem to have a conversation without it ending in an argument, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to have another conversation with her.
    I leave my books in my locker, still not sure if I’ll be back tomorrow. I grab my keys and walk toward the parking lot. I’m several feet from my car when I look up and see Grayson leaning against it. I stop and assess the situation. He’s eyeing me coldly, but he’s alone. Not sure what he wants or why he’s touching my car.
    “Grayson, whatever it is, I’m not interested. Just let it go.” I’m not in the mood for him right now and he really needs to get the hell off my car.
    “You know,” he says, pushing off the car with his foot. He folds his arms across his chest and walks toward me. “I really wish I could just let it go, Holder. But for some reason you seem so focused on my business, you really make it impossible for me to let it go.”
    He’s within reach of my fist now, which isn’t very smart of him. I keep my eyes locked on his, but watch his hands out of my peripheral vision.
    “You’ve been back less than a day and you’re already at it again,” he says, stupidly walking even closer to me. “Sky is off-limits to you, Holder. Don’t talk to her. Don’t look at her.” I can’t believe I’m still allowing him to speak. “Don’t go fucking near her. The last thing I need is for another one of my girlfriend’s to kill herself because of you.”
    I’m in that moment.
    The moment when rational thought is drowned out by anger.
    The moment when a person’s conscience is stifled by rage.
    The moment when the vision of releasing every pent-up feeling I’ve had for thirteen months surfaces, and it actually feels good . His face would feel so good against my fist right now and the thought of it makes me smile as I clench my fists and inhale a breath.
    But Grayson quickly becomes an afterthought when I look over his shoulder and see Sky across the parking lot, climbing into her car. She doesn’t even glance around the parking lot to look for Grayson. She just climbs into her car, shuts her door, and leaves.
    It’s in that moment that I realize he’s full of shit.
    They weren’t sitting together at lunch.
    She wasn’t at the party with him Saturday night.
    She’s not waiting for him after school.
    She’s not even looking for him in the parking lot right now.
    Everything falls into place as Grayson takes a step back, gauging my reaction, waiting for me to take his bait. Sky doesn’t care about him. That’s why he’s so pissed that I was talking to her in the hallway. She doesn’t give a shit about him and he doesn’t want me to know that.
    He’s not worth it , I repeat to myself.
    I watch as Sky pulls out of the parking lot, then I slowly refocus my gaze on Grayson. I’m oddly calm after coming to this new realization, but his jaw is clenched tighter than his fists. He wants me to fight him. He wants me to get kicked out of school.
    He doesn’t deserve to get a single damn thing he wants.
    I raise my arm. His eyes dart to my hand and he puts his own hands up in defense. I point the clicker toward my car and press the button, unlocking my doors. I silently walk around him and