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But steady myself. The dark campus is lit by moonlight. Light wind gushes the trees and grass. Blowing hypnotically. "What's up?" I plop next to him, open the bag, and choose a KitKat. 

 

"I been thinking about something." His blue eyes drift from the sky to me. Glossy. 

 

I prepare to chew on a chocolate bar, but pause. Uh oh...he looks sad. "Thinking about...?" 

 

"It's been different without you at work, I understand why you left, the fucker already has a new pretty assistant. But, it hasn't been the same."

 

"That doesn't sound like something to lose sleep over, we still talk."

 

"We don't see each other like before." 

 

"That's because of exams, once summer break hits we can hang out again. Okay?" 

 

He stays watching me, intensely, I chew away on the chocolate awkwardly. "You know what's been bothering me the most? I been seeing you with him."

 

I freeze in mid chew. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU STALKING ME?!!" 

 

"No, I'm keeping an eye on you since the fucking police or some shit comes at you over this. Why didn't you tell me about this? I waited until you did but you didn't. I thought he was after you like his dead is?" 

 

"No, he's not...I was gonna tell you but I didn't want the girls to hear about it, just us three know about this."

 

He huffs hard and stands up. "It used to be just us." A slither of gloom hints his voice, before I could respond he walks off. 

 

....

 

In the morning, I wake with a emptiness to me, as if I was hungry but it was painful instead. Why am I feeling like this? My mind was jumpy, panicked. I unlocked my phone numerous times, not knowing why. My hands shook. Every time I breathed or swallowed my stomach stung and jerked. It wasn't until I recalled what happened last night, when I realized what I was feeling. Fear.

TWENTY TWO: Violet

 Summer break came fast. I found myself still sad over Jim. He ignored my calls, maybe even blocked my number. I needed a clear head, I needed him to pick up so I could go through with the plan to expose Mr. Pierce. It is all happening today, so I have to get my emotions in check. I decided to leave a voicemail. "Hey Jim, it's me, I'm sorry for being so careless about your feelings. I'm gonna tell you everything. So...can you pick up the phone?" I hung up. Just then a text flashed against my screen.

 

Lex: Ready?

 

On a bench on campus, I sat, watching students celebrating the vacation, some rolling suitcases, other laying in the grass or standing in groups laughing. Having fun. Fun. Something I rarely had anymore. I think back to high school. In a quick flash, I saw the haunting memory, a familiar face, a girl who loved finger cookies and karaoke, an old friend. Then a flash to her running away while a group of guys surround me...their eyes undressing me.

 

My phone rings, I answer shaking away the bad memory. "I'm here." Was all he said with his low tone before hanging up. I get up, passing fellow peers. Going to the front entrance. I expected to see his bike, but instead a almost broke down Nissan waited for me. Strange...did his father not give him any money? 

 

"Hey." I open the passenger side door, sliding in.

 

"Hey." Lex puts the car in drive and rolls forward. "So, out of the 22 girls only four responded. It would've been better if all did, but we gotta take what we can get." 

 

I frown. "Maybe you approached them wrong." He let out a long sigh. I felt him getting angry. "How did you word it?"

 

"Hello, insert girl's name, if you want justice for what Mr. Pierce has done to you, call me back." 

 

I look over at him, squinting. "I think you did your best, but it sounds like a setup and also lacks empathy."

 

"How would you word it?" Lex halts the car at a red light, students cross, with book bags and flip flops. 

 

I stare at the ground, in a daze. Taking a moment. Let it out. Say how it really made me feel. "I know it's hard coming forward after being sexually harassed, and that it makes a woman feel insignificant, like her existence and profession was for nothing because of her gender. How easy it is to revert back to a woman surrounded by old standards, even in this time. To have no respect or help from the world who'll just judge you, or count you as a woman asking for it before a woman who needs support. I know this, because I was a victim of Mr. Pierce, and I'm asking you to join me in taking him down." 

 

Nothing but outside noise flows through the air. My eyes keep contact with the ground, tearing up. "I'm sorry." I hear him say with much rawness.

 

"I should've let out more, but I'm not ready."

TWENTY THREE: Wild Watermelon

 LEX P.O.V

 

Damn, I wanted to comfort her but also didn't want to annoy her since she was easily provoked. It's so fucking sad how she sat beside me right now. Stop the car, pull over, hug her. My eyes scan the side street, waiting for a right turn to go green but the light was long. Fuck it, hold her hand, do it. Hesitantly I rose my hand a few inches and stared as it neared her hand which was placed on her leg. Bare leg, she wore shorts and and floral tank top. Don't touch the skin of her leg she'll snap. Amanda stayed staring, blinking away tears. I knew she couldn't always be as tough as she wanted. Horns honk from behind us, causing me to withdraw my hand which was nearly on hers, and drive ahead. 

 

"We'll get this fucker." I drive forward, finding the road familiar since I was bussed down it when a kid, when I had a somewhat functioning family. Tall threes, a smooth black road, clean sidewalks, mowed lawns, a country club on the opposite side stretching for more than a mile. She would see the house soon and compare it to where I was taking her now. I needed my gun just Incase men were hired. I say this because my father earned his money dirty and made enemies in a few countries so he invested in physical protection. I pull in front of an old brick building on a corner lot in a less appealing neighborhood. Cracked concrete, trash on the sidewalks, liquor stores. 

 

"Where are we?" She finally said after a long silence. 

 

"Stay her, I'll be right back."

 

Inside I pull a shoebox from under my dresser and grab a 45 and a hand full of bullets from it. Tucked into my jeans the gun goes and the bullets in my pocket. "You're not gonna use that." Fuck. It figures...she wouldn't listen. 

 

"It's just for show." I lie.

 

"Nobody is dying or been killed, alright?"

 

I turn to her, seeing her green eyes both sad and pissed. "Alright, I won't use it." She steps to me and outstretches her hand. "Really?"

 

"Yes, really, men are hotheads, I'll carry it."

 

"Have you even held a gun before or used one?"

 

"No, but I wanted to at a certain point."

 

I scan her, trying to pick out a smirk or any indication that she was joking. There were none. Holy shit. "To hold or shot?"

 

She huffs. "Give it."

 

...

 

Driving back to the paradise of a location, I feel my throat tighten. It isn't like I'm scared of her seeing what I could have had, am I? Am I...She'll ask questions and really dig into why I hate him, all women do is pry. Then I'll have to tell her everything. I never told anyone about my mother's death, I only ever told myself it over and over. Hearing it would be different...emotions would play in and I'd look weak in front of her. "It's the same place again?"

 

"Yeah." I keep it short, as I turn a corner and pull into a driveway and unlock the gate with a pass key I stole from Bill's babysitter, Maggie, this was my resort since he changed it every time he caught me inside. The gate opens. Beyond is stone mansion, classy; like a miniature version of The White House.  "It's my father's place." 

 

 

 

Stepping out of the car, I observe as Amanda's eyes tour the landscape, a slight smile on her face. "Did you grow up here?" 

 

"I did."

 

"Ugh...that's figures, the typical rich badboy, huh?"

 

"I wouldn't say bad." I unlock the front door, hearing plastering feet run to it. Lizzie. As I open the door she jumps into my arms. An uncomfortable, huge as beam of a smile takes over me as I clutch her. "Hey sweetie."

 

"HIIIIII." She waves at Amanda who giggles. "I made peanut butter sandwiches. Come on." She tugs at my and Armand's hand. 

 

 In the massive kitchen we go, being seated by the little princess. "You didn't tell me her name."

 

I chuckle at how her little face scrunches up. "I'm sorry princess."

 

"I'm Amanda."

 

Lizzie hands us sloppy sandwiches with stinky hands. "Are we still going to the park, Lexie?"

 

"We are, right after we finish your delicious sandwiches we'll go The the park and get ice cream." As I eat, I search the background, no guards, no babysitter either he fired her after I left no doubt, how many days were like this with her alone? Hostility tingles my skin. It doesn't matter, Bill is never seeing Lizzie again.

TWENTY FOUR: Xxxtentacion

  (I had no ideal Xxxtentacion was a color of gray)

 

....

 

At a park a few blocks up, I took the girls. It was odd having Amanda her, since usually I only took Lizzie. This was a weekly routine of ours, a day I took her away from a cold, big

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