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He wrapped his fingers around my ponytail, wrenching my head back. I yelped as heat spiked down my spine. “It was your fault.”
I grasped his hand, trying to leverage my weight as fire spread across my scalp. “What are—?”
“Don’t act like you have no idea.” He dragged me until I was perched on my knees. I shifted my weight onto my left, but the position hurt. “Debbie’s dead because of you.”
“You’re crazy.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop myself. “You’re fucking crazy. You killed—”
Erik let go of me so quickly that I fell back. His hand snaked out, striking me across the face and spinning my thoughts. I fell to the side, jaw stinging, and the room seemed to shift floor to ceiling. Tears of pain filled my eyes as I dragged in air. A burn raced across my face as I slowly opened my jaw. My brain couldn’t process any of this. How did I go from taking finals to this?
This couldn’t be real—could not be happening.
Every part of me froze up. It was too familiar. The way my lip ached, how numb my skin felt, the buzzing inside my head. I’d been here before, on the floor, head spinning from a hit I hadn’t seen coming.
Suddenly, it was like being sixteen all over again, cowering on the floor as Jeremy went into one of his rages over something so simple, so stupid. Helpless. Scared. Confused. Body and hands shaking.
“I’m not crazy, and it’s not my fault that Deb died.” Anger edged his voice, making it razor-sharp. “If you hadn’t said anything to her and minded your own goddamn business, she wouldn’t have broken up with me.”
“What?” Blood leaked out of the corner of my mouth. I wiped it away with a trembling hand and found myself staring at the horrifying smear of red.
Too familiar.
“When you asked her about the bruises! And then that fucking Sunday. You had to get involved.” He started toward me. “You just had to be standing there and get hurt. Like it was my fucking fault. It wasn’t! It was yours!”
Fury snapped at the heels of the rising fear, and I did something I’d never done with Jeremy, no matter how bad it got.
I wasn’t a victim anymore. I would never be the victim again.
“So typical.” I spat the words out. “You hit someone and it’s always their fault. Never yours.”
“Oh, shut up, you stupid gimpy bitch.”
Planting my hands on the floor, I ignored the dizziness that assaulted me. “I guess your fists just slip and fall on people’s faces?”
“Only those who deserve it.”
“Did Debbie deserve it?”
He cursed. “Don’t you dare talk about her. You don’t know shit.”
I lurched to my feet and staggered back, bumping into the bed. Lifting my head, I saw Erik advance through a haze of tears. I spun, reaching for the closest weapon. I grabbed the bedside lamp, ripping it from its plug, more than prepared to knock him upside the head so hard that it kicked him into the next dorm.
He swung at me, and I jumped back. The momentary loss of balance gave him a second to gain the upper hand. He snatched the lamp from my hand and tossed it across the room. It hit my clothes and then thudded off the wall. My heart stopped, and then I whirled toward the door.
Pain exploded along the back of my head, doubling me over. The walls tilted again, and I blinked to clear my vision, but it felt like it took hours to reopen my eyes. The next thing I knew I was on the floor, on my back in between the beds, staring dumbly at the ceiling.
Erik was pacing, his sneakers crunching over my hair. How had my hair come loose? My entire body throbbed like I was a giant bruise. I drew in a deep breath, and it hurt my ribs and back.
“You’re awake.” He stood over me, sneering. “I didn’t even hit you that hard.”
My head was full of cobwebs. I must’ve fallen and passed out, which meant I probably had a concussion.
And concussions were bad news, right?
Feeling like I’d been abruptly woken up, I slowly rose onto my elbows. For a second, I felt like I was swimming through mud.
“I wasted so much time. I should’ve . . .” He stopped, pressing his palms against his temples and then he started pacing again. “I didn’t mean to do it.”
What was he talking about? Forcing myself into a sitting position, I leaned against the bed, winded. He didn’t mean to do what?
