Helanie:
"Helanie, please open the door," he had been calling out for me while I cried in the bathroom.
Ever since he told me I would lose, I had locked myself in—but not before I cried loudly in front of him. I don't do that in front of anyone.
But I don't know why I get so comfortable with him. Or maybe… I love showing him that he's the reason I'm so hurt.
But a person would only do that when they know the person they're crying in front of would care.
Did I, deep down, know Norman cared?
I mean—more than what he showed?
"Helanie, I just meant—look—"
He shut up when I opened the door and faced him. He instantly stepped back, fixing his white shirt.
"What? What do I need to look at? Show me," I said with my whole chest, challenging him—and as I kept moving forward, he kept stepping back from me with a weird look on his face.
"I meant—you couldn't even land a punch on my face today," he muttered, trying to look away because I kept glaring at him.
