Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

She fell silent, and I pictured her in my room where she
was cleaning or reading or taking care of my snakes, and I
wished she was here, because this would be so much quicker.
Do it. Just do it.
I heard her clear her throat and let out a sigh. “You
know…” She gave me her best annoyed tone. “I got shit to do.
Is this all you’re calling me for? Jesus, you’re such a fucking
baby.”
My fingers twitched with the urge to fist. Good. Keep
going. I slid into a stall and locked the door. “GGo ahead,” I
egged her on. “Say that again?”
“Or what?” she shot back. “What will you do? You’re so
goddamn weak, you have to call me because someone hurt
your feelings? Someone stepped on your toe, baby, is that it?
Michael, Kai, and Will must be doing Jesus a favor to even
consider breathing the same air as you.”
My jaw locked.
“The only reason I stick around here is for the money, but I
don’t even care about that anymore,” she continued, “because
I want to fucking vomit every time I have to look at your
stupid face. Jesus, I really am sick of this shit.”
My chest shook, and I balled my fist over and over again.
She’s lying. She’s doing what she’s supposed to do. I need her
to hurt me, because pain covers up pain, and if I feel one, I
won’t feel the other. I need her to push back down what tries to
crop back up.
“What?” She smarted off. “What are you going to say?
Nothing, that’s what. You can’t even manage an hour away
from me before you’re having a Malibu-fucking-Barbie panic
attack. No wonder Daddy likes me best. I’m the son he always
wanted.”
And I feel a slice inside my stomach. That one cut.
Because I thought she might be right. My father wouldn’t
even acknowledge her as his kid, but he trusted her. He
entrusted her.