Chapter 13

"Choose your death, you bastard."

I shoved him.

"What? Why are you mad?"

I brushed my hair with my hands with frustration and shame and I realized just how much I was sweating.

"You mother fucker."

I looked away from him and started walking away.

I huffed, feeling the worst come over me. What a shitty month. Had to deal with Martha's shit a few weeks ago and now this.

Agh!!

When the fuck did he come back? How long has it been since he's watched me fooling around like this?

I felt a hand tug me and my arm almost detached from my body with how hard I was walking away.

In the future, I would realize just how irrational my anger was. But that is not my fault. I was a teenager, and unused to the hormones that come with being a teenager, and my upbringing was not that good either.

"Ow!" I looked at him and grew even more infuriated, "You piece of shit. What do you want?" I wrestled my hand out of his and massaged my shoulder that now hurt from the pull.

"Why are you angry all of a sudden? I don't get it."

"Why shouldn't I be?!" I yelled exasperatedly.

"Tell me, because I don't understand!" he looked just as frustrated as I did.

Feeling my eyes water, I ignored the tight feeling in my jaw and shoved him away. "You probably had your fun laughing at me acting like a fucking clown, huh?"

"How the hell were you acting like a clown?" His voice raised several pitches above with his irritation.

I would've laughed at that if I wasn't so angry at everything.

"I'm flirting with a guy two years younger than me… and I'm a fucking 25-year-old, flirting with my subordinate who's right now a sophomore in high school and has none of the memories that I do. I look like a next-level p***phile! And now you come out and tell me you knew I was acting like this with you? You must've had your fun, you bastard."

I gnashed my teeth and scratched desperately at my throat, trying to get rid of the tight feeling in my jaw that made me want to lash out.

…

"What the fuck are you talking about? Then, am I not also a 24-year-old who was flirting back to a girl? I didn't know you had your memories either."

What's she even angry about? Shouldn't I also be ashamed of my behavior too, then?

"Also, you're only a year older than me. You've said so before."

She gnashed her teeth and weakly punched my chest. "I don't care. You probably thought this was all funny, huh? I've never experienced anything romantic because I'm a fucking loser who only ever read books and closes herself inside her room and had no friends or parents that loved her."

"Why the hell would I think this is all funny? We're literally in the same situation and I see nothing wrong with what you were doing, I don't think you're a clown."

The bell sounded, ringing for the start of class.'

The sound pierced my ear, heightening my annoyance even more.

I felt my impatience rise at the ringing of the bell that wouldn't stop. It seems like she too got more annoyed by it.

"Whatever. You probably think it's bothersome to be with me when I've never flirted with anyone before and have never kissed anyone and am like, 12 years old emotionally and have zero romantic experience. I don't care anymore. I'll probably be alone for the rest of my life."

"I don't understand what's so upsetting."

She looked away and ignored my words.

I looked at her for a few seconds and decided to switch the tone and pacing of the argument.

"Look at me."

"Fuck off, I don't wanna."

"I don't care. Look at me."

She turned around with annoyance, not bothering to hide the resentment and anger.

"Come on," I grasped her arm.

"Fuck you," she turned her body back around to me but avoided eye contact.

"Come on," I insisted with a frown.

She was silent and hesitated.

"Fucker."

I spread my arms.

Finally, she slowly walked into my arms and stiffly stood there.

A few seconds later, she spread her arms and hugged my waist. I latched my arms around her tightly.

Soon after, I felt her moving shakily in my arms. She felt so delicate that she'd fall and break apart like glass if I stopped holding her.

With shaky inhalations and quick bursts of breath, I began hearing her sobs.

To be honest, I knew about her insecurities but she never really wanted to open up and get too vulnerable with me.

She thinks she'll never be loved because she never experienced love. She didn't see her parents love each other at all, instead, seeing them as two strangers to each other that were coexisting while raising her.

When I think of my parents, I think of two people that love each other, that smile and laugh when being together, and would do anything for each other, or for me.

I can't imagine not having that sort of bond in the household.

I'm lucky that my parents loved each other.

Like me, she's also fortunate that she has her parents and they maintain her well and send her to a good education. But, she doesn't feel like there's a point because, at the end of the day, they're strangers who don't care about each other, don't care about her, and have nothing passionate to live for.

Everyone she knows is a stranger. She can talk to no one about her problems.

When kids are starved of love, they'll either go searching for love or drown themselves in other things.

For those searching for love, they'll either get lucky and find confidence within their selves or go down the wrong path and do things they'll regret; often getting into meaningless relationships trying to find a spark of love and being used.

Alice is part of those that drown themselves in other things. This is especially bad because their resentment and issues are buried within themselves and become a part of their personality, directly affecting how they interact with others.

They'll ignore the problem completely, let it fester, and focus on other things. It'll poison them continuously and they'll deny ever having problems. Their pride in having survived by themselves is too fragile to accept that they need others, especially when they never needed others.

In Alice's case, she drowned herself in excellency, school, and work, and tried being an overachiever far above her peers.

As for me, I wasn't any of those. I was the type that took advantage of the ones starved of love. I took them down the wrong path and affected their relationships with their friends and their family.

I was the type of person to further alienate a girl from her family and become her only toxic shelter.

Yes, I'm that type of asshole that was filled up with love by my parents, my environment, and everyone else around me, and suddenly grew twisted and used others for my selfishness.

While I received a lot, Alice received nothing.

That's why she seemed especially different when she was drinking, even if she wasn't at all drunk.

It was like a switch that made it easier for her to accept that she also wants to feel other things.

She found it easier to act more childishly and shake it off as her just being 'drunk' when she wasn't at all.

Usually, the stigma with alcohol is that it'll make you feel more relaxed and looser.

Alice who was always upright and cold used alcohol as an excuse to take off the heavy burden that was her strictness with herself.

She began weeping even harder and pasted her face onto my chest.

For those who don't understand why she's suddenly crying, it's not just because of her embarrassment. When you're tense and nervous, you feel like the sky is falling. It's even worse when she feels like an impostor in this world, being someone belonging from the future.

She felt alone in the future, now going back to the past in a timeline she doesn't belong to, the feeling of loneliness will be exacerbated.

I can tell she's also had a stressful time.

Uncaring of the wet spot that had dried but now was suddenly regaining itself, I hugged her tightly with one hand and stroked her hair with another hand.

…

…

~~~

"Hey, do it again."

"What?"

She slammed her glass of alcohol onto the table.

"That thing you just did."

I poured alcohol into her glass, "This?" I laughed inwardly.

"No, not that, you imbecile. The thing before that!"

I barely kept my laughter inside of my mouth and reached my hand up to begin patting her head.

She gained a blush and tried looking dignified while drinking from her cup.

"It feels good," she squeaked out.

"Does it?"

"Yeah… my dad never did that…" she muttered.

I pretended not to hear anything. I knew she didn't like opening up and knew she immediately wished I hadn't heard anything.

"Hmm?"

She sighed in relief, "Nothing."

~~~

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