Save Me

Chapter 61

Sweet lullaby is sung outside my glassy window; the sun has raised and embraces everything with its brightness. My eyelashes flutter before I fix my eyes on Corbyn.

Like every time we slept together, I lay on top of him as his arms are holding me firmly. Everything I assumed last night; it's true. His hair falls messy, his lips little parted and his facial features are charged with tranquility. I stare at him and notice that his eyes are no longer circled by black lines. He must have slept last night as well as I did. I didn't have a nightmare; didn't wake up a few times and had difficulties falling back asleep.

My phone buzzes and when I see the time, I panic. I attempt to stand yet he doesn't let me.

"Corbyn," I mutter. "Corbyn, wake up." He hums in response; his eyes fluttering. "I have fifteen minutes to go to school. I'm gonna be late," I complain begging him to free me.

I don't know why I didn't wake up earlier. I didn't hear my alarm; that's a first. Most of the mornings, I was already woken up though not today. And I know the reason.

"Corbyn!" I say a little higher than before trying to get his hands off of me. His lids unlock and connect his eyes with my own. He releases me and I run to the bathroom. I bustle around the room to get ready collecting my things for school as he just lays on the bed watching me with a smirk playing on his lips.

"Aren't you coming to school?" I ask putting my biology book in my bag.

"Later, I need to do something." I don't ask more questions knowing is relevant to his parent's situation. I feel my body blazing when I'm fully aware he is staring at me with those sapphire eyes that must be darker than usual; anticipation radiating off of them. I don't look at him sensing my knees shaking already; even my hands are a bit sweaty.

"Okay, I see you in school. I guess," I grip my backpack in my hand and walk to my door. His skin burn mine as he grasps my arm whirling me.

His eyes are reflecting wild expectation and something else I can't explain. My body weakens melting in his embrace. I gawk up at him not being able to do or think about anything else other than the boy who stands before me. He brings his hands up to my face and cupping my cheeks. I close my eyelashes and feel his lips against mine. One of his arms glides around my waist and crushes me in his body.

His kiss is slow with any traces of hurry in it. His fingers run up my spine and contact with my skin in my neck; causing me to shudder at his new sensual assault. He leans back disconnecting our lips before he captures my lower lip. I glance up to see him smiling; his eyes locked.

"Why are you smiling?"

"You're caving," He whispers.

"No...I'm not,"

"Yes, you are. Baby, you are," The movement of lips caresses mine.

I look up to him. Am I really ready? The anger slowly fades away and the pain disappears when I'm with him. Yet, can I put my trust in him again and be with him after everything that has taken place? After all the things he did and caused to us?

"I should probably go," Surprisingly, he draws his hand off of me once the words are heard.

"Come on guys, take your seats." Mr. Lance cries in order to start the class. I glance at my side to find Corbyn's chair empty. He said he had some things to take care of but I still can't help the annoying pit in my stomach. I open my textbook when I hear a giggle and turn in the opposite direction to find Dakoda staring at me; with an evil smirk plastered on her face.

"What?"

"I heard you broke up," She says grinning from ear to ear. I roll my eyes before I look at Mr. Lance who starts to write on the board. "Too bad," I begin to copy Mr. Lance's notes silently but she doesn't seem to be done talking.

"You are so silly to think he could ever fall for you," I clench my teeth trying not to answer and pretend I don't hear. "I've known Corbyn for many years and he never liked a girl more than me."

I roll my eyes again and tighten my grip on the pencil; making my knuckles turn to white above the edges of my bones. I hate this feeling of jealousy that booms inside of me whenever I imagine Corbyn with a different girl. This time though I have vivid evidence of her words cause I've seen them making out myself.

"He always comes back to me, you know,"

"Whatever," I snap trying to control my breathing and shut the pictures that flood my head of the make-out sessions that I was so fortunate to witness even the day after he claimed we'll never be a couple or anything else. Funny how things evolved.

"It's true, he sleeps with lots of girls, does others things that you can't even imagine but after..." She pauses and coming closer; she whispers. "He returns to me."

I glare at her with nothing but rage in my eyes. I dream of slapping her or hurling her in the wall but she speaks again, not letting me finish my fantasy.

"I'm important to him. What we have, he'll never have it with you," I huff sensing the temperature growing annoyingly higher. My nerves are uptight forming sweat on my epidermis. "Don't you believe me? We have been together for so long, I can't even remember. He has fun but with me, it's different. He gets bored of every other girl, but me? Never."

"Can you shut your mouth?"

"Oh, we're jealous, I see. Don't need to be, there isn't a competition here. Though if it was, I would win."

I continue writing and avoiding her; I attempt not to let her words sink in me and affect me. Although, I feel they already have. I keep solving problems and equations being convinced they are competently wrong. I can't concentrate as her words of their past echo in my head.

"Have you had sex with him yet?" I don't answer and keep writing. "That was rhetorical anyway. I know you haven't. He has told me,"

I turn to her in a split of a second with shock etching my facial features. My lips part as I gape at her. How could he tell this to anyone? Especially her.

"You're lying." I retort.

"Am I? Honey, I know him better than he knows himself. I asked him and he told me the truth."

"Yeah, sure," I murmur. There's no way he would admit the truth to her; I hope so.

"A piece of advice?" She offers leaning closer to me.

"No, I don't want anything from you. Just quit talking!" I hiss angrily. I have heard enough.

"If he really wanted you as much as you think he does, wouldn't it be hard to control himself around you? He would need you and let me tell you Corbyn doesn't wait. He sees what he wants and nothing else matters. At least, that's what he does to me if you get me," She fixes her tiny skirt before her painted red fingers travel down within her golden rich hair. She looks at Mr. Lance and a beam forms on her lips; utterly thrilled at her victory.

By the time the bell strikes for the termination of the period, I'm fuming.

The jealousy has the reins of me as my tense anger seems to battle with it. Her words are another example of his complex history that I'm trying too hard to avoid. I want to leave his past alone but it doesn't want to leave me.

His history is so long and with her; longer than ours. The fact that he spoke to her about us gets under my skin. How could he tell her anything about me? How could he confess something so personal that nobody except us should know? I haven't even discussed it with anyone while he goes around talking about this?

Her latter words have stuck in my brain. If he really wanted me, wouldn't he want something more? He has returned to her since they have known. He hasn't halted desiring her and me...what am I? The victim to his plan? Is anything of what he has stated truth? Or just more lies so he can trick me?