𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐊𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐚 [𝐁𝐱𝐁]

CHAPTER 20: A Mental Relay Of Regret and Wishful Thinking.

Chapter 20: A Mental Relay Of Regret and Wishful Thinking.

Lewis Kaplan Age 17|

I don't think I slept that night; I remember being dropped off at a corner near my house. I remember skipping dinner and letting the maids and butler think I was drunk as I climbed up the stairs to my room. I remember haphazardly trying to hide the clothes from Tanaka's friend, showering in my room and sneaking in Elaine's room barefoot. Where I sat on the edge of her queen-sized empty bed feeling a lot of things, I never thought I'd ever feel.

I don't remember sleeping that night yet I awoke in the morning having slept on the floor.

My muscles were sore and it wasn't just from sleeping on such a hard-cold surface. My flesh was in pain in the most humiliating way imaginable. Events that occurred on the roadblock replayed themselves in my head over and over again like a bad film in my head. The harshness and hate that came from the tone of the officers as they regarded me when they thought I was mixed?

The way the people around who should have been upset didn't really give a reaction? The way the teen mom expected me to cover for her? And the way those boys – my age – came to my rescue when I was nothing but a stranger to them? And the way no one reacted or really fussed after I was beaten up by a lawman for nothing at all?

It all made me think.

Was that normal for them?

I thought of all the minority kids from school – multiblooded kids – the way they always stuck together and never really dispersed far apart in school. One thing became as clear as a whistle to me. The teen mom expected me to cover for her, the boys covered me and even the old man whose door I'd bumped into had warned me about staying put.

These people stuck us for each other against, People like me.

Over the pain of my beaten muscles my stomach burned, my throat hurt, my head ached and where earlier in the night I could feel the imprint of Zhavia's hands on my hips I no longer could.

Everyone and Zhavia included knew who I was. A Kaplan, heir to the Presidency. At school there were officers that patrolled the grounds to keep people like him in check. I understood troublesome kids getting the right punishment but I wondered if these officers had ever harassed Zhavia or people like him for no good reason.

Crocodile looked like trouble, if so I wondered if he'd ever gotten his friends in trouble. I also wondered if Zhavia thought of me, I wanted to know what he thought of me. Did he hate me?

I would hate me.

My mind reeled back to the bold boys who'd presented fake identification to assist me, something about their demeanor reminded me of Zhavia and his friends. If I was right about that I had the complete impression that he would literally kill me if he ever found out I had let him touch me and that I had touched him.

I had touched him.

Oh Lord! I had touched him.

I cradled my head between my thighs and couldn't control the flow of tears that fell down my face. They poured until I had no more. I heaved dry tears until my breathing was shallow as the images in my mind reeled in fast motion like an old film. Back to the officer who had objectified and basically tried to push the young mother into giving him sexual favors.

Had I done that to him? Had I objectified Zhavia and completely overlooked his personality? Lusting after him just because he was gorgeous to look at? I could hear that word ricocheting in my mind with a thunderous booming noise. I couldn't believe I'd spoken it my entire life.