Art Class With My Enemy

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

It was Sunday and Harlow still wouldn't talk to me, though I stopped making an effort to talk to her as well. I knew for a fact that David asked her to the homecoming dance Thursday night, thanks to my persuading powers. As his friend, I hinted that she may like him, which only led him to believe her feelings were somehow connected to the reason we weren't talking. I assured him that it wasn't exactly that simple and that he should just ask her to the dance because they had a lot in common.

Like I said, that was Thursday night. Mason actually tried to talk to me on Friday after school, but I quickly walked in the opposite direction to avoid him. I was seriously hurt and upset that my former three best friends—Gage being my way former best friend—would think that I would purposely hurt Harlow.

I especially avoided Gage during art class. He acted like his usual jerk self anyway, so that made it easy to completely ignore him. He only tried to talk to me once the day after our argument, but I told him to shut up and stay away from me. Mean? Perhaps, but he deserved it.

Surprisingly, I didn't get in trouble with Mrs. Wilson either. I figured it was because she assumed I wasn't feeling well or something. That was fine with me.

I sighed as I plugged my earphones into my phone as I entered my garage. Dancing always allowed me to relieve my stress and frustration, so it's exactly what I needed at the moment.

I was in the middle of my improvised routine when I slammed into something after leaping across my garage. I fell on my butt, glaring up at that 'something', which just so happened to be someone.

"What the hell?" I snapped, taking the earphones out of my ears.

"I called your name," Gage said, smirking down at me. Knowing he wouldn't offer to help me up—which I wouldn't accept if he did anyway—I pushed myself off the ground.

"What are you doing here?" I asked harshly.

"I came here for Mason. He needs to talk to you—"

"I don't care," I interrupted, crossing my arms across my chest.

"Look, he was wrong to avoid you, which he's realized now. Harlow too, but she knows you're angry with her," he said.

I focused on the floor instead of him, still glaring. "I said I don't care."

"Yes you do," he stated, taking a step toward me. I immediately took a step back, about to object, until he continued. "I know you care that you've been sitting with people you barely know at lunch. You care that your best friend isn't talking to you. You care that we all thought you could purposely hurt Harlow."

My eyes, filled with anger, flashed up to him. "Okay, so what? Yeah, I care. But you know what? You've all hurt me more than you ever have before—and that's saying a lot since I can take a lot of crap. I may care that I'm missing my best friend, but I still can't believe that you all would think I could do something that horrible," I ranted. I mentally cursed myself when angry tears started building up behind my eyes. I must've looked like a wimp for all the times I've started to cry in front of Gage.

Gage paused as a regretful emotion took over his blue eyes. "I know, and we're sorry."

"Don't you mean they're sorry? I know you would never apologize to me for anything," I replied as a few tears escaped my eyes. I quickly wiped them away.

Gage's eyes hardened at that, all sympathy gone from them. "Well it's not like me doubting you is new, Dakota. You've never given me a reason to trust you," he spat.

I almost laughed at him. "Seriously? We were best friends as children and you still think you can't trust me?" I paused, suddenly knowing why. "Oh, right, you can't trust me after I rejected you."