What Game Am We Playing Now?

I'm glad you're with her. You both look really happy. I hope that she is everything that you dreamed of because it really hurt when you broke up with me and then not even three days later you ask her to Homecoming. I can tell you, it felt great, just great. You had me chasing you for a long time and you really liked it didn't you? She didn't even look twice at you until you asked her. I was always there and you just bulldozed right over my feelings. Left me on the side of the road. When we broke up, you said, "I'm way out of your league, honey." and laughed.
I walk into school the next day and lo-and-behold! She comes up to me, all timid-like and says, "You're not gonna kill me are you?" "Um why would I kill you? Did you do something that warrants that?" "He asked me out. But don't tell anyone I told you." she says and she smiles one of those goofy idiot smiles. "Oh,... no of course not." I say. "I'm so happy for you, oh my god, yay!." And I manage to squeal like a girl for her and she goes away happily back to you.
We all have lunch and she turns to me again and says "Guess what!?" "I dunno, what?" "He asked me out!" (For the benefit of the whole group this time, but she's only talking to me.) And it knocks me out again, even after I've already heard it once. "Oh," *pause* "That's great! I'm so happy for you!" I manage again. I manage the squeals again.
But this time you're hearing the exchange also, and you know and I know that the pause was just a little to long and the second squeal was just a little to delayed. My face fell out of its perfect fake smile a little to far, the fake-smile that returned was just a little to wide. You knew what you'd done. You knew that she didn't know. You also knew that I knew that you knew I knew. I saw you move just a little closer to her, I saw your hand clench into a fist and unclench as soon as she reached for a hand. Everyone stopped what they were doing to watch the exchange; they knew what my opinion on you was and my opinion on her.
I carry on the chatting about how happy I was, but inside I wasn't. I feel my heart hammering and I have to close my eyes because my pulse is pounding in my ears. She finally stopped talking. When I open my eyes, she looked concerned. "The blood just dropped out of your face." (This is quite a feet because I'm Indian, and thus have dark skin). "You're like ten shades lighter than you were three seconds ago." She offers me some water, which I decline politely.
"Are you okay?" Am I okay? Well, am I? I think you know the answer to that. Why don't you just tell her. No I am not alright. Please: Go ahead. I want to hear your sick twisted version of what happened last night. I want to hear how you're gonna get a bitch-load of pity points from her. She adores you so much. I stare at you and cock my head minutely to the right, making the silent challenge. We meet eyes for a split second but I still know that you heard me. You shake your head and I smile. I win this round. So I say, a little to loudly, "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."
What I still wonder is why she didn't say 'are you happy for me?' but said instead, 'are you going to kill me?' Give it a little time. At first it really hurt to see you at Homecoming. Laughing and holding hands and sharing looks that I could truthfully only imagine. Nice and deep - her love. When we dance our dance, when we fight our fight, when we play our play, and when we, at the end, each count up our casualties, all I ask of you is to make sure she doesn't get hurt.

I don't know how you could have done this but now that you have, you better know what you just got yourself into.

We've played our games, I'm not proud of it, but now I'm not playing for a boyfriend, I'm playing for a place where you don't keep degrading me. You honestly think that you can call me a whore and/or a slut and not feel a consequence? Bullshit. And do you honestly think you can go on mistreating me every time I get within 10 feet of you? Please! I talk the talk but don't often walk the walk. That's the real problem with me: Is that I'm just not ready to walk the walk yet, I'll get there, don't you worry. Yeah I'm not playing for boyfriend, now I'm playing for respect.