but I grab Kent by the collar of his douchey polo and shake him. All that hidden darkness within me surfaces like a bubbling volcano. “Hey!” he shouts, eyes wide with confusion as he tries to pry my hands off him. “What are you—” “You’re going to tell your dad you ran into a door,” I state, teeth clenched as I pull him closer so my nose is touching his. “Tell him you got hit with a football. I don’t give a fuck.”
