The Taunting (College Life #1)

Pain is something that turns us away from what's in front of us

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"Yes." Her voice was harder.

He lets him go.

Teddy doesn't move, he just stares at Bridget, a small tear trickling down his cheek. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok." She coos, rubbing his tense shoulder.

"He talked about you, the things he was saying-"

"I know, I understand." She kisses his lips.

"Je t'aime tellement, Brigitte. Je ne pense pas que tu comprennes." I love you so much, Bridget. I don't think you understand, Teddy says to Bridget in his native tongue.

"I know." She responds in English. She kisses his tears away and hugs him to her chest. He clutches onto her, like she was the whole universe, like she held the universe in her palm, in her soul. One thing that people don't know about Teddy, he's half French. His mother came to America for college, met his father, and never went back home.

I see Elizabeth just staring at him, her hand cradling her chest, and I swear I see her eyes gloss over. I don't move, instead, I just watch. Watch as she stares at her sister and Teddy, him speaking to her in the beautiful language of French, the way they sound, and the tears pooling out of Bridget's eyes. A few girls linger to the side, watching. It's like a rom-com movie from Hallmark.

I walk over to her, "Are you ok?"

"Yes, I'll be fine." She doesn't look in my direction.

"Let me see."

"No." Her voice was stern.

"Let me see it, Elizabeth."

"No, you don't get to pick and choose when you want to care." She bites.

I pull her to the side, "Listen to me, I know what I said to you was fucked up I know that now. But you're dumb if you think I'm going to stand by and let you be hurt without checking on you. Now, stop fighting me and give me your hand."

I see her eyes fighting me, "Fine, but be quick."

"Thank you." I take her good hand in mine, dragging her down the hall with me to a bathroom.

"Where are we going?" She tries to pull away, I yank her towards me.

"To the bathroom, we need to get it cleaned up. And don't you dare tell me no." She quiets.

We find a bathroom, this one was bigger and had more energy to it.

"Sit on the counter," I tell her.

She does it, her dress riding up her thick thighs, I do everything in my power to tear my eyes away from her, not wanting her to see what's in my eyes, or straining in my pants.

Looking through the medicine cabinet, I take the first aid kit out. Dabbing a cotton ball with alcohol to clean her hand and then bandage it up with wrapping.

I don't have to tell her to hold her hand out, it's already ready for me. My good girl, I think to myself.

"This is going to hurt," I warn.

"I've already experience pain, I can handle it." The comment was directed to me, but I don't acknowledge the jab.

I dab the cotton on her knuckles, she hisses. I rub the top of her hand, "It's ok, baby." I whisper, kissing her knuckles. She doesn't jerk her hand away like I think she will, she just stares as my lips leave her knuckles.

I let my lips linger for a moment, wanting to feel her throbbing hand against me, she wants me, she needs my touch just as much as I need hers.

I try to spark up a conversation, "How have you been?"