The Other Girl

The director finished giving his notes for the night and dismissed us. I dashed down to the little corner I had set my stuff up in, and hastily began to gather it up. I needed to get out of there before he could find me. I peered through my thick curtain of hair to see if he was around-- no sight of him. Thankful, I hoisted my backpack onto my shoulder and made a bee line for the door.

I made it out into the hall and almost to the door that led outside when-
"Hey!"
I shouldn't have looked- but I did. It was him. I stopped and turned to face him as he marched toward me.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?"
I nodded. He seemed calm. Maybe she hadn't told him.
He walked toward the stairwell and opened the door, waiting for me to follow. I shuffled in behind him, slowly sliding my heavy backpack to the floor.
"What is it?"
"I think you know."
"I haven't done anything wrong..."
"Oh really? I think you were going to. I mean, why else would you ask to hang out with ***?"
"What? I can't be friends with her again?"
"What were you going to tell her?"

Nothing betrayed his anger except his face. It slowly started to turn red as his Irish temper rose.

"I wasn't going to tell her anything. I just... people have told me I need to talk to her. Compare stories."
"And why would you need to compare stories?"
"I just want to know the TRUTH!"
I clapped my hand over my month. I hadn't planned for that word to come out so strongly.
"Why does it matter anymore? You and I are over! Move on!"
"I just want to know what happened! I just want to know why it feels like my former best friend and former boyfriend are hiding something from me! Is it true what they are saying? Did you guys... did you cheat on me?"

His eyes darted around- searching for an excuse.

"What does it matter? We're broken up."
"You're right. We are over. So what does it matter if I try and talk to *** and get her side of the story? If nothing happened, there is nothing new for me to learn and you have nothing to hide. So I'm going to call her tonight and talk to my friend *** and figure out--"

He jumped toward me, grabbed my shoulders and slammed me against the wall. His face was beet red. I had gone too far.

"If you ever, EVER try to talk to her again- I will fucking kill you. I won't let you take her away from me. I need her. I will kill you."

He gave me one last push for good measure and stormed out of the stairwell. I felt my face slowly fold into a frown and hot tears poured from my eyes. As I crumpled to the ground, there was only one question in my head. Did he ever need me that much?