“Just stop,” she says again, turning her head slightly. “Please.” I collapse back in my chair, pulse thundering in my throat. My head is enflamed, heart mutilated. If we weren’t in the middle of class, if I didn’t feel like a monster, I would pull her into my arms right now. I’d hold her until she stopped struggling, then beg her to hit me, bruise me, make me pay for every shitty thing I’ve ever said to her. But before long, the bell is ringing and she’s diving out of her seat to get away from me. To put distance between us as quickly as possible—and I have no choice but to watch her, because
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