She Deserved It
The flock of birds flew into a tall tree, their small bodies casting over the clouds. My eyes swooped, following their graceful motion through a dirty window. Once they disappeared into the depths of the tree, my eyes dropped to my plate of food, a mushy-looking sandwich that a dull waitress had brought.
“Vic,” the boy sitting across from me said, almost pleadingly. He sounded worried.
I allowed my eyes to lift to look at him, James Maxwell-Sniyder. “I hate him,” I thought, anger erupting in hot flames that engulfed my heart. I would NOT talk to him; I would let him stumble upon his words, waiting for his apology.
“You,” he said, and followed that with a pause. Then he went on, shocking me with harsh words.
“You deserved it, Victoria, you really did.
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