Chapter 66 Sixty-five

• None of us attempts to break off our staring bout, the anger, hurt, every emotion I feel is transferred into the glare directed at him. His lips press into a thin line, my nails dig into my jean and I grit my teeth to quell my rising anger. I want to inflict the same level of pain on him, whack him on the head like the unwanted mole he has become.
• Violence has never been in my nature but as his gaze continues to match mine, I want to throttle him. Hit him until he understands how much irreparable damage he caused me.
• Why didn’t he keep his lips to himself? Better still, plaster them on someone who wants him, a lot of girls will fight to be in the same room with him, yet he chose to harass me. What happened to all our talks about healthy boundaries, no touching without consent?