In the open field where everyone could see, she kissed him.

And he let her.

Amidst the rejoices and thundering applause, I found myself stuck in a stagnant wave of hurt. The air grew thinner and thinner as I grasped for more to breathe. My chest tightened and my cheeks felt warm.

Rage was boiling inside.

The haunting picture of another girl luring him into her bosoms as she wrapped him tightly on his neck—it was a desperate move. I didn't get to watch them any longer. It was like my body involuntarily turned away, shielding my heart from further damage.

Many questions lingered in my mind, most of them were unwanted. The cheers continued; it was endless. I was surrounded by them. There were many sights I could've laid my eyes on, like the losing team blaming each other, the coaches arguing near the scoreboard, or even one of the least popular cheerleaders making out with the guy with the xylophone. But instead, I was looking at them.

I decided I should go back to the clinic, where I would be busy and eventually forget everything that happened.

Walking away from the crowd, I looked at them one more time, just to see if the haunting picture would be just as haunting as I'd last seen it. And to my luck, it wasn't anymore.

My heart was in temporary relief.

Veronica was no longer with him. I didn't know where she went. It was only Zac in the middle of his jumping mates, looking right at me.

When our eyes met, I believed it was a sign to leave. I walked further away from him briskly, holding closely the stack of folders to my chest. I was too mad to look at his face, even to congratulate him. I bet he had enough though.

"Hey, you like what you saw?" he asked as he was catching up to me. "Hey, wait up, Mary."

Rolling my eyes, I replied without looking at him. "Yeah, loved it. I got the best view from where I was standing," I said sarcastically.

Zac continued catching up to me. "What's wrong? Aren't you happy for me?"

I stopped and looked at him. "Sure," I said ungenuinely.

"Could you stop walking for a second? Where are you going?"

"Look, Zac, I have no time for this," I said, not facing him, "I gotta go."

"No—wait, Mary. Talk to me."

I scoffed. "You were so happy you let girls kiss you. Does that happen often?"

"Girls kissing me? What are you talking about?"

"That cheerleader who kissed you in the cheek."

"Oh, you mean Veronica?" he said with a laugh.

"Yeah, I guess it was her," I stuttered as if I didn't meet her a while ago, "It doesn't matter. Have fun with your team."

"We will. There's a victory party later at my house," he said, "I want you to come."

"Can't, but you can invite someone else though. Probably one of them," I pointed to the cheerleaders sitting on the bleachers.

"What's up with you? Did I do something to make you angry?" he asked innocently, worry shown in his eyes. He held my hand, "Talk to me, Mary."

The way he talked to me it made me feel bad for feeling this way. I shouldn't but I did. "Zac, I'm not ready to have a boyfriend."

He was speechless. His mouth was about to move but no words came out. "Yeah, yeah, okay. But I'm just trying to be your friend, at least for now."

"Look, I came here to watch you, okay? Like I promised," I looked into his eyes, making sure he was listening.

"My life—it's not compatible with yours. We're too different. I'm saving you the heartbreak. You have a reputation to uphold, a status to live by."

"Reputation?" he said, confused. "Status? What the hell are you talking about?"

One of his teammates walked past us. "See you later, Johanson."

"You coming with us?" Another asked.

"No, but thanks," Zac replied to them then waved.

                                  *****

His house was gigantic. Dr. Kelly was right.

Veronica was there on the couch, surrounded by a door of men. She wore such skimpy ripped black shorts and a bando as a top. Holding a beer in one hand and a phone in the other, she was used to attending parties like this. The boys seemed to enjoy her company; their smiles were above the roof.

Suddenly a sweaty jock from the group approached me. I assumed he was a friend of Zac's, but I doubted they were any close. I hoped they weren't. He didn't seem like a nice guy at all.

He had a lot of tattoos on his arms. He wore audacity on his lips, enough to annoy me at first glance. By the way he walked towards me with a can of beer in his right hand, it wasn't hard to tell he was not in his best state.

As he took a sip from his beer, he gazed at me. Then confidently he opened his mouth with the overwhelming stench of alcohol in his breath, "Hey, sweet thang, why don't I bring you upstairs? I'd hit that." He bit his lower lip fervently.

"Gross," I told him straightforwardly. Feeling awkward, I walked away to find a safer, quieter space for me to be alone in a house full of people.

"Where do you think you're going, you prude?" He grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to him, his other hand locked on my waist. I smelled his beer breath when he chuckled.

"Let go of me!" I moved and kicked in between his legs.

Groaning loudly, he dropped to the floor, his hands positioned on the area. And just when he thought it was enough, Zac kicked him in the face. His nose was bleeding. Those who were watching had different reactions. 

"Are you alright? What did he do to you?" he asked.

I nodded, shaking in fear.

"Who let him here? Get him the hell outta here," he shouted to one of the boys standing by the door.

They followed and let him out.

"Who was he?" I asked.

"Some guy who wasn't invited."

"Are you sure you're alright? You aren't hurt?"

"I'm okay," I replied to Zac, "Just a little bruise though." I showed him my arm.

"Come upstairs, I'm sure my mom has something for that," he said worriedly.

I followed him to the stairs.

We went inside a big room. It was bigger than our apartment room. I was left in awe.

There we saw Zac's mother. He introduced both of us together.

"Oh, what do we have here?"

"Mom, this is Mary."

"Hi, darling," she hugged me.

"So, I got a party to handle downstairs," Zac said, smiling, "Take care of her for me, mom. She's special to me."

"Oh, is she, now?" she said.

As soon as the door closed, his mother's smile fade suddenly.

"Do you mind giving me a hand with these boxes, sweetie? And after these, help yourself with the encyclopedias in the shelf. We have the complete volume."

"I—I'm not sure I can manage, ma'am."

"You obviously don't belong to the party. So be a helping hand."

"Okay." I had no choice but to follow.

                                     *****

Staggering over to the stairs, I moaned in each step. "Stuart," I called him, barely getting any voice out, "A little help, please."

Stuart left what he was doing on the table and ran to me immediately. "I'm here, Mary."

"Why did this happen? Have you been carrying heavy things?" he asked.

As I listened to his questions, I stopped to think about an acceptable answer. "Nothing much—I just assisted with the cleaning at Zac's party," I lied.

"He told you to clean at your his own party which you were invited to? By him?"

"What a jerk. I'm gonna talk some sense into him."

"No, it wasn't him," I moaned, "Be quiet, now just please help me up to my room."

Finally I went to bed. It felt nice to lie down in a comfortable, clean mattress.

But the pain was back.