Break Me
I closed my eyes hard and focused hard on breathing. I could feel the warm tears welling up in my eyes, and took another big breath. I needed to remain semi-calm in this particular situation, because, like most other situations that were bad, I had caused it.
I pushed my eyes closed tighter and tried my best not to let my shoulders shake, and finally gave up on that painful idea. My face was turning an awful beet color, I could actually feel it. I wouldn't be in my algebra class, and most definitely would not show up in biology to be his lab partner. There was no way in hell I would be presentable before then.
I grabbed my book and fled the library as best I could without attracting notice.
My ditching of the second half of the day did not go unnoticed. In fact, it resulted in Fang ditching biology to talk to me because some loser girl had told him I ditched algebra. It was rather unlike me to ditch; part of the whole blending-in thing meant actually going to class once and a while.
All too soon, I heard a knock on my door. I recognized his fingers on the wood, artistically drumming around while I tried to make myself presentable. I sighed and gave up; I mean, it was Fang, after all. He seen me covered in blood and guts, so this look might've been manageable.
I slowly opened the door, and focused again on breathing.
He didn't look different, and I wasn't really expecting him to. I don't know why I breathed in so sharply when I opened the door. Maybe it was just seeing his face again.
"You look like hell," he said, letting himself in and sitting on my bed.
"Just what every girl loves to be told," I muttered, taking the seat beside him.
"What happened today?" he asked.
"Shouldn't I be asking you that? Or do in need to call Zoë? " I said sourly, then immediately regretted it.
His once comforting face turned harder and harder until I no longer saw the face of my friend. I saw the anger fill his usually calm face; I saw his eyes narrow as the accusation grew. "What the hell does Zoë have to do with this?"
I felt my eyes rimming up with fresh tears, and I let them fall freely now. I was no longer hiding out in the school library; I was at home, with my supposed friend, maybe even something more than a friend. "She was my best friend, Fang!" I shrieked, letting my voice tear through three octaves.
He put a hand up to his head, probably realizing just how much about his day I knew. He breathed once, twice, really deeply, taking his time as the rhythm calmed us both down. My tears stopped around the same time his hands quit shaking.
"Max, I -" he started, thinking I was calm enough to let him tell his side.
But I wasn't. That sorrow had turned to rage, pure rage so hot it burned my throat to think about it. "I cannot believe you could do that to me! You hurt me more than I thought was even possible! You were the only person who could break me, Fang!"
My face was turning bright red and I was breathing raggedly. "Max, breathe. If you're gonna hurt me, you have to live through it." His tone was strong and warming. I thought about breathing.
"Why do you care if I die?" I asked bitterly, turning my thoughts back to breathing.
"Max," he said, appalled, "I value your life more than my own. Eventually, I'm going to die. And you are most certainly not going to die before then. I'm going to make sure of that."
"I'll just kill myself then."
"That isn't the kind of thing you joke about, Max."
"It wasn't a joke."
His dark eyes grew wider and wider, looking more and more innocent and scared than he ever did. "Max, tell me this is a joke. Tell me!" He grabbed hard on my shoulders, shaking them and rattling my hold on my sanity. "Tell me you're joking, Max!" His yells weren't angry, but they were growing more and more scared and frantic.
I didn't dare to tell him anything. I closed my eyes and willed my mind to keep myself breathing and not just let myself go here, in his frenzied and shaking hands. "Max! Oh my God Max!"
I pushed my mind harder not to finish me off now. I kept my eyes closed.
I felt a set of warm lips close on my mouth, and my will to die seemed to simply evaporate. My eyes opened as we broke apart.
"Zoë?" I asked him.
"Never heard of her," he joked, wrapping his arm around my waist. "It's good to have you back, Max."