chapter 22- punches

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losin' control - russ

"He's going to what?" Layla shrieked. Her eyes were the size of saucers as she stared at me and her mouth was slightly open. "I'm going to kill him, Hope."

She began to rant about the ways she was going to murder Jack, but I was too busy, staring at Connor to pay attention to what she was saying.

Connor was mad. Like pulling at his hair, pacing up and down the halls, and clenching his fists, type of mad. I had never seen him like this.

"Connor," I spoke. I don't know if he didn't hear me over Layla's ranting or because my voice was so raw and quiet from crying. "C."

This time he eyes snapped down to mine, and he momentarily stopped pacing the tile floors. The storm raging in his eyes seemed to calm for just as second as he looked at me. I could see the sorrow, the horror, and the shock in his eyes. But just as quick as he calmed down, he was tense and rigid once again. Now his eyes were full of anger.

Connor gazed at me again, shaking his head and flexing his hands. Quickly he turned on his heels and stormed down the hallway and around the corner. All I could do was watch him with swollen eyes.

I felt like every time he saw me nowadays, I was crying over something. Today was his first day back to school here and our first day of senior year, and I was in massive shit already. I was a terrible friend.

"Hope..." Layla slid her back down the walls and sat down next to me on the floor.

"My family is going to hate me," I whispered. My chest burned with fear and anxiousness. My heart physically hurt, and each time I took a breath in, I thought I might explode.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Hope."

"That doesn't make me feel any better." I turned my head and stared into her dark brown eyes that were full of sadness. Sadness for me and the situation that I had gotten myself into.

"What can I do to help, H?"

"I-I don't know Layla, what do I do? Do I tell my parents? Like what do I do in this situation?" The tears I was trying to keep at bay were threatening to spill down my cheeks.

"You need to tell your dad, Hope." I shook my head at the very thought of telling my dad about Jack's plans. "Hope you have to. He can help you."

There was no "good" way to go about this. Jack was going to expose me in probably the most horrifying way possible. He was going to carelessly give out pictures of me where I was the most vulnerable, and he didn't care. The boy I thought I was going to marry was turning into a monster, and there was nothing I could do about it.

The first time I had sent nudes to Jack was around six months into our relationship. We were still in the honeymoon phase at that point, and he had just helped me overcome losing the most important person in my life: Connor. I was hopelessly in love with him after that. My vision was clouded by love and how happy Jack made me.

So, I did what every other almost 16-year-old did with the "love of their life"; I turned the lights off, hopped in bed, and snapped a couple pictures of my naked body. It was so dumb, and the pictures weren't even that good, but Jack loved them, and I loved Jack. After that, I sent some any time Jack asked for them. That turned out to be a lot more often than I expected, but as a result, I got a lot better at taking the pictures, and I wasn't as embarrassed to send them.

Looking back now, I can't help but realize how stupid that was. The mere fact that I sent nudes to Jack over once a month, meant that there were hundreds of my nudes. Hundreds of pictures that Jack had the opportunity of picking to share with the world.

"Why don't we skip fourth block?" Layla asked.

"We can't Lay. It's the first day of school." Not to mention Layla was always a stickler about missing class. I wouldn't let her mess up her attendance record because Jack had decided to be a dick.

"You sure?" She rose from her seat on the cracked tile and helped me stand up. I nodded just as the bell to fourth block rang. "I'll meet you in the English hallway?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll see you." I waved Layla off, and she bolted to her class across the building while I slowly walked to my class a few halls over.

Coach Glenn had been my teacher for AP American History as well as AP Psychology. He was this enormously tall grey-headed man who had quickly become one of my favorite teachers. He made it so obvious that he cared for his students and thought of them as family rather than another group of kids. His class had become a second home for me, and that's why I decided to be a teacher's assistant for his AP American History class this year.

"How's my favorite girl?" Coach Glenn asked. He was leaning against the wall outside of his classroom, greeting the students walking in.

"I'm okay."

"Where's that boy? No escort to class this year?" He was talking about Jack.

"No." I shook my head and looked at the ground.

"Oh." Coach raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I'll beat him up, don't worry."

"Thanks, Coach." I laughed and walked into the familiar class, taking the table in the back that was designated for me.

As the class filled up and students found the seating chart at the front of the room, there was a nervous chatter that filled up the room. Without a doubt, Coach G had a notorious reputation for being intimidating and kicking kids out of class because he was fed up with their attitude. But they didn't have anything to worry about, he was just a big teddy bear.

"Alright folks time for your first important lesson. This one is mainly for the ladies," Coach G crossed the room and took his seat at the lone stool next to the board. "Boys are like busses. There's always another one coming."

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Coach G had let me out of class right before the final bell rang, so when Layla finally made it to the English hallway, I was already waiting for her.

"Time to go home." She looped her arm with mine and sighed.

"Thank God."

"So, do you want to go get food? I'm dying for french-fries from-"

"Lay..." I smacked her in the chest and pointed towards the crowd of people standing in the middle of the parking lot.

"Ow... what the fuck was that for bitch." She whined. "Oh."

The two of us, arm in arm, rushed over to the crowd, but we were way too short to see what was happening.

"Hey!" Layla elbowed the football player standing next to us. "What's happening?"

"Leigh is getting the shit beat out of him." He laughed. As he should, I thought.

"That's great. By who though?"

"Connor Harding." The boy's smile only got bigger. "A fight on his first day back? Pretty epic if you ask me."

Connor was in a fight. Scratch that actually. Connor was fighting Jack, and he was winning. I frantically looked at Layla, who was enjoying this way too much.

"What do we do?"

"Watch him win." And that's exactly what we did.

Layla and I stood, surrounded by football and basketball players until Connor rose from the pavement where he had no doubt been punching Jack in the face.

Over the noise of the crowd, I thought I heard him say, "Don't ever fucking talk to her again." Had the start fighting over what Jack had said to me earlier? Oh, God.

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hi guys!! i hope you liked this chapter! its around the length that i'm hoping all of the chapters will be from this point on.

p.s. don't ever let a significant other pressure you into doing something that you are uncomfortable with. even if it doesn't make you uncomfortable until later on. it doesn't matter how big or small the issue is, if you aren't comfortable don't do it.

ily all! xoxoswaldo

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