chapter 11 - coffee

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Talia:

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Talia:

I must of teleported.

Last night, I was in Grayson's car; today, I'm in my bed, feeling hazy and confused.

The most obvious answer, of course, is that I was carried from the car to my room. Knowing that I'm taller and larger than Jess, that leaves only Grayson as my body transporter. Great. That means the grand total for times I've been carried by him unconscious is now two.

That's almost as embarrassing as the amount I have cried in front of him. After a few moments of crying, I could tell he was uncomfortable with the atmosphere I created in his car. But what else could I do? At that time, I was very disconnected from reality, especially since the memories kept hitting replay every minute. Even right now, the moment from the hallway feels raw and fresh. The only difference is that I'm now in control of my emotions.

I check my beside clock: 3:28 AM. Witching hour. This is also the time my mind tends to reflect on past events, usually preventing me from falling back asleep.

My hand reaches to my neck, feeling around for the hickey Carter forced upon me. It pains me that the memory will always remain, even though the mark will disappear in a few days. I'm trying my best not to imagine the assault.

Nervousness stirs inside me while I think about possibly having to report Carter to someone. Would anyone believe me? The only evidence I have is curtsy of Grayson and the picture on his phone. It's our word against his. What I didn't bother sharing with Grayson, however, is that Carter's dad is the district attorney. I think that's what really scares me.

He's the reason why we dated. My two parent lawyers have worked closely with Carter's dad. They have often forced me to attend social gatherings swarming with lawyers, which is how I met Carter. Children of lawyers: not a good match.

So, if I were to report this to the police, they would immediately recognize the name of the accused, and possibly reject the case. It's a harsh reality. What's the point if it's just going to waste my time? I know if I were to tell Grayson all of this—or Jess for that matter—they would tell me I'm wrong. I'm not wrong. This is how the sad system works. I need to try to forget this and move on. Easier said than done.

There's one thing that keeps reoccurring in my mind. My curiosity circulates back to the confrontation between Grayson and Carter. As Grayson's fist made its harsh contact against my ex's face, I thought about the day he entered school with a ginormous black-eye.

It was two days after we broke up, and I was putting away my AP Biology textbook in my locker for the weekend. Cassie stood on my right and blabbed loudly about how annoying her Trigonometry teacher was when they unfairly graded her test. It was something about taking points off for not adding the degree symbol to the ends of numbers. At the time I remember being too scared to tell Cas that that was a reasonable answer to remove points. She intimidates me to this day, if I'm being honest, but that's not the point here.

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