Rage

Chapter Twelve

"Charlie, what's wrong?" I asked cluelessly, trying to ease the tension between them. I'd known that Chris had punched him, but I hadn't known that things were that bad. After all, Chris hadn't told me what they'd fought about.

"Stay out of it, Taylor." He ordered, his jaw taut. He failed miserably at seeming authoritative.

I made a move to say something but Chris shook his head and sent me a look that I could read clearly— 'let me fight this battle.'

I seceded.

"I'm here because Brad and Romi, who are my friends, invited me." He said assertively, and the tension in the air was palpable. In fact, people were beginning to stare.

"You don't belong here." Charlie informed him point-blank and I just felt anger at the way he was speaking. "No one wants you here. You don't have friends here anymore. Romi and Brad invited you because they were obligated to so don't go around thinking that you're special because, if it was up to them, they wouldn't invite someone who I've outright said didn't belong."

Charlie probably thought that he was being clever, but he just sounded like a spoilt, put-out child who hadn't gotten his way for the first time and was throwing a tantrum because he didn't know what else to do.

"Do you really think so? Or can you just not stand the fact that there's someone out there who doesn't worship the ground you walk on?" Someone 'oohed' in the background, and I had to fight the smile that was threatening to take over.

"Why would anyone take your side over mine, faggot?" Charlie said and my hand flew to my mouth in shock. I was enraged at what he said. Throwing around the word faggot like it was some derogatory insult just wasn't done. Besides, it was also a lie that was meant to insult Chris.

"You know what, Charlie? I'm done with you and all of your bullshit." Chris burst out, his voice suddenly murderously firm, "I'm leaving."

"I'll come with you." I said hurriedly, looking nervously at Charlie and at the small crowd that had gathered. Of course there had to be a scene.

Chris just looked at me. He didn't nod nor did he say no, so I just assumed that he'd accepted it.

I followed him out of the ballroom, then out of the hotel and onto the street. He was walking fast, too fast for my heel-clad feet to keep up with.

"Where are we going?" I asked, wishing I had the time to reach down and pull my shoes off.

"You'll see." He didn't say more than that and I didn't think I should dig deeper. I'd find out soon enough, anyway.

We walked a lot, until we reached the center of town, with the stores and restaurants and all that and Chris led me into a small, hole-in-the-wall diner that was barely even seen beside the boutique and the restaurant that were on either side.

When we entered, we took our seats across from each other in a booth. Chris had been quiet the entire time, as if trying to get his head together, only opening his mouth to tell the waitress that he didn't want anything but a black coffee, his appetite probably having been lost. I knew the feeling.

My stomach was churning nervously too much for me to eat a morsel, so I just asked for a Diet Coke with as much ice as possible, breaking my diet in desire of the fizzy, heavenly drink.  

We were brought our drinks in a matter of minutes, with the waitress looking oddly at us, all dressed up in our sleek formal attire. Chris just held his coffee mug in his hands, staring emptily into its depths. I gulped down my Diet Coke, immediately feeling refreshed. I also discreetly slipped off my heels as my feet were practically begging for mercy and I was pretty sure they were blistered, too.