Loving the Enemy

6- Olivia

Dear Someone,
I'm cold. So cold that sometimes I just want to play with fire so I would know what it feels like to not be so mind-numbingly numb.

-Olivia Kingston

EVERYONES watching, laughing staring, recording.

I feel my blood run cold with pure hatred as I stare back. At that moment I hate all of them, every last one, I even hate Madeline for being related to one of the worst human beings known to man, and for convincing me that things could be different, that he could be different. I'm so cold and all I can do is stand there frozen when everything inside me falls apart in pieces.

I stare down at Kyle who's groaning out and agony about how he's going to kill me for kneeing him in his hardly existed balls, but it's like every emotion has been wiped clean from my body. I feel useless and disgusting and thoroughly worthless. Maybe I'm being ridiculous and it's not as a big deal as I think after all its just high school drama that no one's going to give two fücks about in a few years from now but I don't know if I have a few years to wait.

Madeline moves towards me trying her best to direct me out of everyone's line of vision as guys make gross remarks about how they can see my undergarments through my wet clothes and as girls call me a countless number of slüts.

I feel shame rip through my skin as I storm passed everyone running back towards the car when I run into Tyler. His eyes flash with what seems to be sympathetic but I know his kind. He looks as if he wants to say something but he doesn't. He just stands there staring at me with eyes that say everything his mouth never will. The tears were unexpected. They came fast and hard rolling down my cheeks with no dignity, I hear distinctly Madeline screaming for me to wait but I don't. I remove my wet shoes and I run. I run so fast my legs burn and my heart feels like it's going to burst open and my ribs feel as if their going to collapse if ever stop, I run until the action of running no longer is able to be processed in my mind, I run until I no longer can.

I end up in front of some old torn down comic shop a mile or two away from my block. Ironically I never owned a comic in my life, yet for some reason, I felt as if I should go in. My white dress had somewhat air-dried from me running at an unspeakable speed through the midnight air. When I walked in the door made a fond ringing sound that instantly brought me back old memories. It smells like old people candy and new carpet as I walk into the mysterious shop that I have no idea what possessed me to come into.

"Are you lost?" I look up startled to see a young guy probably in his early twenties staring at me questionably. He's..charming. Light brown perfectly placed hair and dark eyes, a white buttoned-down shirt with... light washed jeans. He must not be from around here where boys wear nothing but graphic tees and khaki shorts.

I snort at him crossing my arms and I'm surprised by the pent up anger that flairs in me at his question. "Why huh? Because I'm a girl I can't like comics or something? Because news flash to you buddy its 2019 girls can like whatever the fuc-"

"Woah, woah, woah. Calm down there, I wasn't even talking about the fact your a girl its just... you not wearing any shoes and you look like you've run a marathon, but protest on kid," he cuts me off mockingly, obviously amused by my whole little rant.
Embarrassment strikes me again for the second time tonight and I feel heat burn up my cheeks as I look away from the attractive older man.
"Oh. Um actually kinda..its a long story,"  I say internally cringing.

Mystery man chuckles.
"I have time." His deep brown eyes shine when he speaks and despite everything I've been through I feel like I can trust him God, I'm losing my mind.

"Well, it all started in the first grade when I may or may not have stolen this boy's fruit snacks......"

A/N
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