Scars of My Past(4)

By: D. C. Renee

“Okay, okay, let’s go,” she said as we walked out of our dorm. She gave me a quick hug once we were outside before heading in the opposite direction as I did.

I was so consumed with getting to my class on time that I didn’t see who was standing in the hall waiting for me.

“Genny,” I heard him say, and I cringed as I halted in my tracks. A few students were milling around, but none of them had taken notice to my sudden stop.

“Marc,” with a “c.” I fought the urge to roll my eyes at the way he’d introduced himself. “What are you doing here?” I asked, clutching my books to my chest as if they could protect me. I’d met him at one of the frat parties we’d gone to the previous semester. I hadn’t had any experience with guys, so when he came on to me and showered me with attention, I took his bait. He was cute in a pretty-boy way, and he was charming. I went on three dates with him. He’d been a true gentleman for the first two and a half dates. It wasn’t until near the end of the third when he insinuated what would happen later that night. We hadn’t even kissed, and he wanted to have sex with me?

I told him point-blank it wasn’t happening. He got angry, called me a bunch of not-so-nice words, and practically kicked me out of the car. I’d been hurt and upset, but Amanda had saved the day by going out and getting more candy and chocolate than we could eat. By the next day, I was actually feeling better. And then two days later, I ran into Marc again, and he asked me when we’d go out again. I told him I thought that was a bad idea.

He hadn’t thought so.

I spent the remainder of my first semester, which thankfully was only a little over a week, avoiding him. It would have been harder to avoid him if everyone on campus wasn’t busy studying and trying to pass their finals.

Then I went home for winter break. He’d texted and called a couple of times, but I didn’t respond, and toward the end, he’d stopped. I breathed easier when I hadn’t heard from him in a few days.

So then why in the world was he standing just outside my classroom as if he’d been waiting for me?

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said as he stepped closer .

“I just got back to campus a few days ago,” I told him as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. He gave me the creeps—something I wished I had figured out before I agreed to go on the first date with him. Funny what kind of shitty luck I’d had with guys. I’d only had two experiences—the first was Tyler, who’d ruined my world without even knowing me, and now, freaking Marc was ruining my first dating experience. After this, I was done with guys forever. Or at least for a long time.

“You haven’t answered my calls or my texts,” he said as he continued toward me.

“I was busy with finals and then with my family,” I said as I stepped back. But for each tiny step back, it seemed like he took ten toward me. I looked hesitantly around to see if there was anyone in the hallway, anyone who could help me. There wasn’t. We were alone.

“You think you’re too good for me?” he asked.

“No,” I croaked. “No,” I repeated.

“I’ll show you too good for me,” he said just as he shoved me back. I lost my balance, falling backward as my books landed beside me with a thud.

I was shaking, afraid of what he’d do next. My head hung down, eyeing my books as if they’d been my fortress and now that fortress was in shambles.

And then suddenly, I was no longer afraid.

“You think it’s okay to hit girls?” I snapped my gaze up at his words, the timbre of his voice sending a shiver down my spine.

Marc was pinned against the wall by a guy whose posture screamed “don’t mess with me.” I couldn’t see his face, but I’d bet his eyes were alight with fire. His whole body was coiled tight, and I could make out the muscles and ridges beneath his shirt. He was bigger than Marc was and much scarier, but he wasn’t scaring me.

“I didn’t fucking touch her,” Marc responded, but I could hear the hesitation in his voice. Whoever had come to my rescue was making an impression on Marc.

“You didn’t fucking touch her?” the guy asked incredulously before letting out a mirthless laugh. “You won’t fucking touch her again,” he said, his voice deadly and full of promise. “You won’t even fucking breathe the same air she breathes; got it?” Marc didn’t respond. “Got it?” the guy asked again.

“Yeah,” Marc finally choked out. “She’s not worth it,” he said as my savior let him go. Marc cast me a dirty look before practically running away.

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