"What the hell were you thinking, Thea?" Victor's voice dominates the inside of the car and quite frankly, I don't appreciate his tone.

I'm sitting in the backseat, arms crossed, boiling over with anger while he berates me as if I did something wrong.

Asshat.

I'm starting to think all boys are asshats with Devon the epitome of asshattery.

Christ, I'm so pissed I'm not even making sense.

"Do you realize what could've happened if he'd lost his shit?" I'm taking the question to be rhetorical so I focus on the trees rushing by. "Devon would've pummeled you into the ground."

He grips the steering wheel and takes a sharp turn onto the main road.

The way he was racing out of the subdivision that overlooks the lake running through town, you would think Devon and his band of douchebags were chasing us down with shotguns.

"And whose to say I wouldn't have been the one doing the pummeling?" I toss back.

Sure, I'm no Ronda Rousey but I can be scrappy if the situation calls for it and tonight was definitely one of those times.

He shakes his head and looks to Lindsey for help but she's too busy rocking back and forth chanting, "Oh my god", as if the man upstairs is going to descend from the Heavens to protect us from Devon's wrath.

Fed up with the both of them, I close my eyes and listen to the radio while Vic continues his nagging.

Damaged goods.

Those two little words make me regret not kicking him in the nuts before we left. Ending his bloodline would be doing the world a favor. Just the thought of him and Ashlie procreating little Chucky babies sends a shiver down my spine.

"Thea!" Vic barks and I meet his glower in the rearview mirror. "Are you even listening?"

"Oh, sorry, I have this weird medical condition that tunes out bullshit."

His eyes narrow like a father fed up with his petulant offspring. He blows out a frustrated breath leaving me to wonder why he's upset when I'm the one that was humiliated back there and will forever be known as Little Piggy.

"You know, it'd be nice if my best friend was on my side and not pitching a bitch fit."

"I am on your side," He stresses and I sure can't tell. "I know he deserved it but going all Muhammad Ali on his ass and attacking him in front of the whole party will make things worse."

"Are you serious right now?" Livid, I lean forward and grip the back of his seat. "He embarrassed me in front of everybody for shits and giggles but I attacked him?"

He drags his fingers through his hair. "I get it, Thea, but did you have to hit him?"

"Yes." I hiss without a second of hesitation.

If he's expecting me to backtrack on my stance he's going to be waiting for eternity. I'm not the one in the wrong here. Had Devon left me alone, none of this would've happened.

The whole situation replays in my head and brings back memories of another disastrous party. The only difference is I didn't leave this one crying over a ruined friendship. However, if he keeps up this narrative I may end this night with one less best friend.

"Maybe we should turn around so you can apologize." Lindsey says.

Actually, make that two friendships down the drain.

"What?" He jerks to a stop at the intersection.

"Say what now?" I ask at the same time.

"Hear me out." She turns, slipping her seat belt under her arm. "Just tell him you were drunk and now that you've sobered up you realized that you overreacted."

She glances between us and all I can do is stare because I'm literally without speech. My expression must say it all since she shrinks back against the door.

I have half a mind to hop out. Better to walk home than listen to this crap.

Remembering that I'm wearing a short dress and would be mistaken for a streetwalker looking for a good time, I quickly nix that idea.

"Let me make myself perfectly clear." Because I refuse to have this conversation again. "The day I apologize to Devon will be the day you find a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow."

Before I even think to apologize, he would have to atone for years' worth of grievances and, trust me, I have accounted for each and every thing he's ever done.

Most people have journals and pretty keepsake boxes full of fun memories. I have an old shoebox stuffed with slips of paper that recount the nightmare that was middle school and the first few years into high school. So, no, the word 'sorry' will never leave my lips.

"Okay, okay. It was just an idea. Forget I said anything." She holds up her hands. "Sheesh, you're scary."

I drop back against the seat, breathing hard as the events of the night drag me further into a dank, dark hole.

All I want to do now is go home, wash the night away, and scarf down the Cherry Garcia ice cream in the back of the freezer. Adding in a bag of peanut M&M's will help save this dreadful night.

Actually, I refuse to ruin my diet for Devon. I have a weigh-in Friday and if I gain a single pound from stress eating there'll be Hell to pay.

"Oh, no." She turns around, holding out her phone. "Look what someone posted."

I focus on the clear as HD video playing the exact moment I hit Devon. The crack to his cheek can be heard along with the intake of breath from the crowd. The angle is shot from behind me and I watch as Devon's head cranks to the side. Seeing it outside of the moment is a bit jarring.

And a little satisfying.

Vibrating with rage, he seems to tower over me like a fire breathing dragon. His skin is pulled tight making his features more pronounced and I get why Vic is so upset. He looks like he could annihilate me without breaking a sweat.

The vid only lasts for a few seconds and when I play it again, that glint of chaos and destruction in his eyes dulls my righteous anger. Caution creeps in and I have a feeling that one slap is going to turn my world upside down.

"This is so not good." Lindsey frets after I pass the phone back to her.

"People record everything nowadays. It's not that big of a deal." I grumble.

"And it's spreading like wildfire."

Of course, it is. A video of someone striking Devon would be the hottest thing going on these social media streets.

We're almost to my house as she buries her face in her phone watching other post of the party and reading off the comments.

"This is going to be a nightmare of epic proportion." She says and Vic agrees. "We need to come up with a plan."

"What kind of plan?" He asks.

Lindsey rattles off ideas and it sounds like she's trying to set me up in a WITSEC program. One would think Devon was a mob hitman by the way these two are panicking.

I slapped a football player, not a gangster. And, besides, they get hit worse every Friday night on the field. My little tap shouldn't even phase him.

"You two sound insane." I interrupt. "I am not skipping town or school. Calm down. You're giving me a headache."

"Fine," She huffs and falls back against the seat. "End up like Spencer Bailey."

I groan and Vic mumbles, "Not this again."

Spencer was a pompous little brat that thought he was better than everyone. When Devon arrived at school in all his bad boy glory and became the new shiny thing for all the girls to fawn over, he became Spencer's target.

He started telling everyone that his clothes came from Goodwill and he was on food stamps. The shit really hit the fan when he insulted Devon's mother. I was at the park that day and it took Noah and his brother to pull him off of Spencer.

Shortly after, Spencer and his dad were in an accident and a week later, he transferred out of school.

"How many times do we have to tell you, Devon didn't cut his brakes. It was a car accident, they happen all the time." I stress with exhaustion. "And he left because he moved up North with his mom after the divorce."

"That's what they want you to think." She replies and I don't have the energy to argue.

Vic shakes his head and I concede, "Okay Linds, whatever you say."

Devon is a lot of things but he's not a skilled assassin taking out his enemies. He's nothing more than a stupid boy with a chip on his shoulder.

"Are you seriously telling me that you're not scared?"

I crack the window letting the cool air wash over my face as I give her questions some thought.

Scared isn't the right word. I can admit that I'm a little anxious because he's not going to let this go and neither am I. I've already let a lot slide over the years. Moving forward, it's going to be an eye for an eye.

"No." I lift my shoulders even though I have the feeling I'm going to regret my answer. "I say, bring it."

They both look back at me like I'm crazy and maybe I am. Being harassed for years will do that to you.

"Be careful what you ask for because Ashlie will be gunning for you too."

I chuckle. She's already taken away my best friend and tossed me into a pit of obscurity only to be taken out for ridicule whenever she and her clique need a cheap form of entertainment. I'm all too familiar with her guerrilla tactics. I'm also my father's child, built from tough stock and I'll be damned if a pint size harpy is going to put fear in my heart.

Devon, on the other hand, is an altogether different animal. He's a cunning wolf with sharp fangs and claws who stalks his prey and viciously attacks when you least expect it. He may not be a killer but he's the monster in my nightmares, the villain in my fairytale, and the only boy I want to toss in front of a moving train.

Basically, he's a menace I wish I could rid from my life.

Usually the optimist, Lindsey nervously chews her thumbnail, turning into a worrywart. I really wish the girl would pick a lane and stay in it.

"Chill, Linds. Everything is going to be fine. I promise."

Famous last words, a little voice warns.