5 | outburst

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               Monday. The sky was already dreary and insipid, filled with rolling grey clouds that seemed to perfectly reflect my mood. I got dressed in silence as Megan rambled on about being behind in one of her classes; honestly, I wasn't listening and I couldn't have cared less.

I couldn't quite work out what it was that had put me into such a temper; perhaps it was a case of the monday blues, maybe it was the weather, or it might possibly have been something deeper.

I made my way through breakfast and first period without saying a word, aside from when my name was called out in registration. I allowed myself to sulk, head down, arms folded, for the entirety of French class. In the second hour, I stalked to maths, finding my usual seat in the third row on the left and throwing my bag down on the floor beside my ankle. As the rest of the class filtered in, Mrs Cartwright began her lecture, scribbling algebraic equations on the blackboard at the front.

"Psst, Erin," I heard someone whisper behind me. "Erin." A tap on my shoulder. My brow furrowed in irritation.

"It's Evie," I snapped, not bothering to turn around.

I heard a few snickers. "No need to be rude, Evie, I just had a question." I remained still, facing the front, waiting for the girl behind to continue. "You see, I heard that your dad is a dick sucker, or should I say dads, plural. That's right, isn't it?" More sniggering.

White hot fury rose within me. I turned around like a shot to see Eliza Stuart behind me, a wide grin at her thin lips. Beside her was another girl, who I couldn't remember the name of, giggling hysterically with a hand over her mouth. "What did you just say to me?" I dared, my teeth gritted, fists clenched.

"You heard me. Dick sucker."

"Oh no, sweetie you're getting confused with your own mom," I retorted, and her face fell slightly. "Don't worry, hopefully while you're here she'll make enough money working on the corner to buy you some new extensions to replace that ratty weave."

A few girls around her scoffed and she cleared her throat, her cheeks tinting pink. "So did your daddies pass on the dyke gene to their daughter too?"

I slammed my hand on my desk, standing up and lunging for her. I couldn't contain my utter wrath as I grabbed her by the hair and dragged her upwards. She screamed, desperately trying to shove me away, but I was stronger, and definitely had the upper hand.

"Not so fucking clever now are you?" I spat, dropping her as she collapsed into her chair, a look of terror in her eyes. "You say another word and I'll kick you so hard you can taste it."

"Miss Luis, out my classroom NOW!" shouted Mrs Cartwright, her eyes wide in shock horror.

"Gladly," I snapped, grabbing my things with haste and storming out of the classroom, down the corridor and out of the building.

I crossed the field, making my way over to the trees, through the gap and over to the bench by the pond. My heart was hammering in my chest as the adrenaline still pumped through my veins. My eyes stung with tears that were desperate to fall. With my hands shaking, I held my head in them, trying to breathe slowly to reduce my rapid heart rate; it didn't seem to be very effective.

A fair amount of time passed before I allowed the salty droplets to run down my cheeks, knowing it was too difficult to keep them from falling any longer. It felt like a release to cry, but I hated it all the same. My shoulders shook as I sobbed, a mixture of anger and upset intertwining.

Other people probably thought I'd overreacted. They might think that what she'd said wasn't that bad. But it was. My dads had faced abuse throughout their whole lives for being themselves. I wasn't about to take the same shit from a little girl with a big mouth.

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