CONTINUED FROM PART 1
“What do you want Jad?”, he asks me.
I slowly walk up to him. “I want you to man up. Grow some balls. You wanna be a lady? That’s fine. Be one in your own house. Not here”.
“How am I bothering you?”
“By being you. You bother me. The way you walk. The way you talk. Your kind is disgusting”.
I sound so cold sometimes I even scare myself. Can’t imagine what goin on in that poor faggot’s head.
“You call yourself a man fruity?”
“Yeah, because you are such a man, Jad”, he smirks at me.
Great. Insulted by a fag is all I need. I punch him in the face and he falls right down to the ground. I’m not gonna get insulted by a girl.
I bend over to him and whisper in his ear: “Don’t you ever say that to me”. I spit on his face.
He starts crying on the floor.
I take a few steps back as he starts muttering. With all the sweat, tears, and drool dribbling down his sorry mouth, I couldn’t understand a word!
“I thought…”. He wipes the shit coming out of his nose. “I thought you were coming here to…”
“To what?!”, I snap.
“To get back to the way we were”, he says. His voice is now girlier than ever.
The school bell suddenly rings and I turn around to look at the bathroom entrance. Thankfully, no one is watching me do this.
I walk back towards him and kneel right next to him. He’s scared shitless. His whole body trembling. It’s good. Maybe he’ll finally understand. “We were nothing. You are a fag. I am normal. Enta louteh. Ana tabi3e. Enta mara btentek. Ana rejjel ma bentek. You disgust me. I can’t wait to get the hell out of this school so I don’t have to run into freaks like you every single day. Do you understand?”
I say all of this without blinking, staring at him dead in the eye.
I continue: “Stop texting me. Stop messaging me on Facebook; I removed your foufou ass for a reason. Stop scribbling ‘I heart Jad’ all over your textbooks. Stop carving ‘I want to be Mrs. Sleiman on your school table’. Forget I ever existed.”
Cool. Maybe this time he’ll get me. I get back up and walk over to get my backpack to leave.
But he had to say it.
“I’m going to tell her”. He tries to stand up.
Fuck. He had to say it.
“Tell her what? Nothing happened!”, I scream at him.
“Batroon”, he replies as he wipes the tears off his face.
“It’s your word against mine”.
“I have pictures. I’m going to show her”.
And he just might. I pretend I didn’t hear that last thing he said. I pick up my backpack and get out.
I can hear him crying in the background.
I now know what I have to do to get this over with. Tomorrow is the day that this all ends.
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Read Part 3 HERE
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