The moment I reach my entrance valet, I find Griffin standing exactly in front of the door. What the fuck is he doing? He has his own home. Why doesn't he go back there? I sigh. "What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here."

He shakes his head. "No, no, no, redhead. I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be." His voice is an unbearable hiss. I'm minutes away from calling the cops on him for trespassing. Does he even have an ounce of respect?

He continues, not even letting me reply to his snarky remarks. "I know your secrets, boo. You can't hide and pretend you're a goody two shoes." His smirk is even worse than usual. "In fact, you're a piece of shit."

I'm hurt, but still find enough courage to clap back at him. "So are you, then, asshole."

He slaps my right cheek. "You don't get to call me an asshole, especially for letting poor Suzie face the hell you put her through." So, he's also believing that bullshit. Kind of expected from him.

As much as I'd like to return him that slap, I refrain from doing so. Instead, I clench my fists and state clearly, "Listen, Griffin. If you think you are the right person to rub salt on my wounds, you're dead wrong."

"Why so?"

"Do you even dare ask? I did nothing. She went ballistic when I told her to back off. I didn't mean to hurt her. I just had to defend myself." Griffin isn't convinced. He thinks these are all excuses. That's his problem, not mine.

"Stop accusing her, redhead! Suzie is the sweetest girl I've ever met! You... on the other hand..." He curls his nose as he gives me a disgusted glare. Why is he still talking to me if he finds me repulsive?

"If I stink so much to you, then leave. I'm not forcing you to be around me."

"Don't tell me you can't take a little provocation."

"Yours isn't a provocation, it's utter disrespect. For real, Griffin, if you don't even know how to get by in this world, then leave. Stay in your little bubble and stop bothering me."

"Oh, poor little snowflake..." The more he taunts me, the more anger flares up inside me. I seethe as he continues. "You act like this because you've been caught redhanded. You can stop acting, Braverly. You're not a good person. Take responsibility for once in your fucking miserable life."

I've had enough of him. He thinks he can bully me into silence and submission. He has broken my spirit way too much for my pleasure. It's time to return his spiteful words and actions. So, I gather all the energy I have and let it flow in the slap I give him. Straight on his face, as he deserves.

I don't even give him the satisfaction of the last word. "Fuck you, Griffin Evans, you little bastard!" He runs back inside his house as the spineless coward he is. He'll definitely tell his parents and have me ratted out. No way this happens again. I leave his valet, walking as fast as possible, and go to find refuge by the river.

***

As much as I wish I'd be able to face the current, I'm not ready. I can get wiped away in a matter of seconds if I try. But how long can I keep waiting? Mom and Dad will find out soon and I doubt they'll stand by me. They'll try and please Suzie instead. They really deserve each other.

The river is the place where I can find comfort, where I can be myself. This time, I have a notebook and a pencil with me. I can draw a few sketches. I start from the landscape surrounding me. I grasp every detail with every trace on paper.

I check through details to see if there's anything that needs to be fixed. As I realize the drawing is already good as it is, I close the sketchbook and put it back in my bag, followed by the pencil. I lie on the grass and close my eyes, drifting into my alternate world where everything goes the way it's supposed to go. Not like this horrible reality.

***

After being questioned over Suzie's allegations, I finally return home. There, Mom and Dad are waiting with their hearts racing like crazy. They're aware of the extent of what I'm accused of and fear the worst might happen to me unless I manage to prove my innocence.

"Braverly, how was your day? Did Mrs. Hall ask you any compromising questions?" asks Mom, who thinks I may go insane from one moment to another.

"Don't worry, Mom. They asked me to bring evidence and I did. When they confront it with Suzie's statements, she's toast," I reply confidently, knowing that her lies will catch up to her sooner than she believes. She may think she always a trick up her sleeve, but she has made a serious mistake by underestimating the truth.

"Suzanne is in for a bad surprise if she thinks she has successfully pulled that stunt," states Dad, a resolute look in his eyes.

I warn him. "As much as I'm confident she'll pay for lying so blatantly on a sensitive topic, let's not get too cocky. She can turn tables her way."

Dad insists. "No, she won't. Truth will prevail. That brat can kick rocks. She won't get away with her lies." His resolve is stronger than Suzie's bullshit. His and Mom's deep love will transcend the witch's poisonous lies. She can be defeated. She must be defeated.

***

Even though there's a part of me that believes my parents will help me to restore the truth, I know there's only a feeble chance they do. They're biased against me. Just getting them to listen to me will be an uphill battle.

Moreover, it's time for me to return home. It's already 8:30pm. I shouldn't be here dilly dallying anymore, but on my way to my room, where I'm supposedly shielded from the negativity my toxic and dysfunctional family bring all the time.

By the time I'm by my porch, however, I already find Griffin on his own, sitting at his entrance door with a sorrowful look. This is the first time I've seen him like that. Usually, he has that smirk of his that makes his face puncheable.

He notices me; he doesn't even make one of his usual snarky, offensive remarks. Instead, he just asks, "What do you want, Lane?"

"I want to offer a helping hand for once. A sort of truce. I know you're struggling deep down, so let's set differences aside and let me comfort you for once." I truly mean what I say. I want to help Griffin. I want to make sure he has someone to relate to even though I can barely stand him.

Silence falls as we stare at each other. Mine is a resolute yet kind gaze, while his is confused—and confusing. If I manage to actually make him open up, I'll be more satisfied than when I successfully completed my first excursion on my own when I was fifteen.

For a moment, I cradle myself in the illusion that Griffin's views and mine finally align at least in part. However, it's washed away by two simple yet powerful words. "No, thanks." He disappears inside, leaving me distraught. He'll be back to insulting me within the next twenty-four hours.

In that case, fuck him.