This Girl: A Novel

alone with someone else, so I follow the sound of the voices until I see her.
    Until I see them.
    She’s backed up against Javi’s truck, her hands on his chest, his hands on her cheeks. Seeing his lips meshed with hers pulls a reaction from deep within me that I didn’t even know I was capable of. The only thing running through my head at this point is how the hell to get this asshole off her. Of all the guys she could choose to help her move on from me, it sure as hell isn’t going to be Javi.
    Before I can even contemplate a more sane decision, my hands have hold of his shirt and I’m pulling him away from her. When he trips and falls onto his back, I drop my knee onto his chest and punch him. As soon as my fist meets his jaw, I realize it took all of three seconds to throw away every single thing I’ve worked for. There is no way I’m getting out of this predicament with a job.
    My split-second realization is enough distraction to allow Javi to regain his footing and deliver a punch right to my eye, sending me back to the ground before I can react. I press my hand against my eye and the feel warm blood seeping through my fingers. I hear Lake yelling for him to stop. Or she’s yelling for me to stop. Or maybe both of us. I stand up and open my eyes just as Lake jumps in front of Javi. She’s hurled forward when Javi hits her in the back with a blow that was obviously intended for me. She gasps and falls against me.
    “Lake!” I yell, rolling her onto her back. As soon as I confirm she’s conscious, I’m consumed by rage.
    Vengeance.
    Hatred.
    I want to kill this asshole. I grab the door handle of the car nearest me and pull myself up. Javi is making his way toward Lake, apologizing. I don’t give him time to make amends. I hit him with every ounce of force behind my fist and watch as he falls to the ground. I kneel and hit him again, this time for Lake. As soon as I pull my fist back to hit him again, Gavin jerks me off him, sending us both backward. Gavin has hold of both my arms from behind and is yelling for me to calm down. I yank my arms away from him and stand up, intent on getting Lake out of here, away from Javi. She’s probably beyond pissed at me right now, but the feeling is pretty damn mutual.
    She’s sitting up, clutching her chest, attempting to take a breath. As much as I want to yell at her, I’m immediately overcome by worry when I realize she’s hurting. I just want to get her away from everyone. I take her hand and pull her up, then wrap my arm around her waist to help her walk.
    “I’m taking you home.”
    When we reach my car, I help her inside and shut her door, then walk around to my side of the car. Before I get in, I take several deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself down. I can’t imagine what possessed her to allow him to kiss her after seeing me practically confess my love for her on stage. Does she not even give a shit anymore? I close my eyes and inhale through my nose, then open the door and climb in.
    I pull out of the parking lot, unable to form a thought, much less a coherent sentence. My hands are shaking, my heart is about to beat out of my chest, I probably need stitches, and my career is now in jeopardy . . . but the only thing I can think about is the fact that she kissed him.
    She kissed him.
    The thought consumes me the entire drive. She hasn’t said a single thing, so she has to be feeling pretty guilty right now. As soon as I feel the urge to turn to her and tell her exactly what I think of her actions tonight, I choose to get out of the car, instead. It’s better for both of us if I get a breather. I can’t keep this all in anymore. I pull the car over to the side of the road and punch the steering wheel. I can see her flinch out of the corner of my eye, but she says nothing. I swing the car door open and quickly get out before I say something I’ll regret. I start walking in an attempt to clear my head. It doesn’t help. When I’m at least fifty yards away from the car, I bend down and pick up a handful of gravel, then throw it at nothing.
    “Shit!” I yell. “Shit, shit, shit!” I’m not sure at this point what or why or who I’m even mad at. Lake is in no way tied to me. She can date whoever she wants. She can kiss whoever she wants. The fact that I overreacted isn’t her fault at all. I should never have performed that poem. I freaked her out. We were finally in a good spot and I went and screwed it all up.
    Again.
    I tilt my