Betty
.
.
We stared at each other for seconds like we had both lost our ability to speak.
Then I broke the silence. “I’m sorry,” I said.
“Watch where you’re going,” he said, his tone brusque and cold.
“It was an accident, okay?” I furrowed my brows. “It’s not like I ran into you on purpose.”
He snorted like he didn’t believe that. “Just stay out of my way.” He stepped and continued up the stairs.
I scoffed, my chest tightening as he treated me like I was trash.
I fixed my hair behind my ears and proceeded to the kitchen. There I met my mother.
“Did you make the bed?” She asked.
I flinched. How could I when there was d**k staring at me?
“Yes,” I said, bolstering my voice to mask the crack.
“Where’s the bedsheet?” She asked.
I arched my brow.
“The one you took off?”
I gulped
