Oh, Dakota.

Chapter Thirty Eight.

The beginning of a story is always easier for me to write than the end. :3             

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dakota Aniston

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

My lips felt bruised. But, I didn’t focus on that. Instead, I was more in tune to the feeling of my heart dropping so fast into my stomach; it left my whole chest hollow and cold.

This couldn’t be good.

Scurrying off of Elijah, I wipe my hand across my mouth as though I could erase what just happened. But, the feeling of his warmth and the burning sensations of my lips thought otherwise.

And then there was Stacey.

She was standing before us, her small arms crossed against her equally small chest. Her jaw kept flexing, and her eyes were narrowed into deathly slits. “I said,” She repeated, her voice more deadly and venomous than before. “What the fuck is going on here?”

I flinched. Elijah stood up slowly, and came to stand beside me, and turning to glance at him, his face was even guiltier than mine. What I couldn’t seem to figure out was, why should we feel guilty?

“Is someone going to answer me?” Stacey barked, after a while of us staring at one another in a heavy silence.

I flinched again, away from her accusing tone. I gulped quietly, ringing my fingers together. “What do you mean? I’m on a date with my boyfriend.”

I was momentarily surprised at what I said. But, it felt good.

“Boyfriend?” She threw her head back and let out a bark of humorless laughter. Her eyes aligned against mine again, and her brown eyes were so dark in fury they almost appeared midnight black. “How come he was with me last night?”

 That comment shouldn’t have affected me. But, it did. It bothered me so much that my blood was boiling furiously.  

Narrowing my eyes, I stepped forward and cupped my hand under Stacey’s elbow. “Let’s go.” I seethed, and pulled her behind me, forcing her out into the parking lot. I didn’t have time to see if Elijah was following and right now, I’m not sure I care.

Stacey ripped her arm from my grasp. “Don’t touch me!” She screeched at me.

I fell silent. My mouth fell slack and not for the first time, I was at a loss for words. Never once in all of the three years we’ve been friends have Stacey and I fought. Sure, mindless, silly arguments, but never one like this.

And, of course, I was never one to say anything to her. I let her win. I let her walk all over me. Over and over again.

I always suspected Stacey and I could be good friends. We have similar things in common; we enjoy the same things, but that was the problem. She was always competing against me, and at first, I never thought anything of it, because I was finally getting the attention I wanted. I was popular, I was noticed, and I felt good.

But, then she slept with Dave. The one boy I thought was only mine. I gave him every single part of me. And I’m still paying for it.

But, I’m done with this. I’m done with being her little puppet. I’m done pretending I’m happy. And most importantly, I’m done with being someone I’m not.

I’m finished with letting her win. And by the way her eyebrow rose and a small smirk formed over her mouth, I suspect she thought just that. Well, not this time.

Squaring my shoulders, I step up toward her, making us chest to chest. “Get that smile off your face, Stacey. This isn’t over.”

The smirk only grew. “What isn’t over?” She moves even closer, putting her chin over my shoulder. If anyone was to see us they would think we were hugging. When Stacey talked, her voice was a deadly, sweet whisper, “If you haven’t noticed, sweetheart, I already won.”