Drowning (1st book)

10. His Love

The next day I wake up. I feel empty.

He left me. He left me sitting on my bed like a fool.

I squeeze my eyes shut as a roll of embarrassment hits my gut.

"Rose!" my mother yells from downstairs.

I groan and push myself up to a sitting position.

"What?" I reply.

"You're going to be late for school!"

I check my clock.

I fall back onto my bed in defeat.

Screw school.

----------

I pull out my copy of Jane Eyre with a sigh.

Will we ever be done with this book? It seems to be longer than my life.

I look around my classroom.

Asher's not here. Not that I want him here. He's already embarrassed me enough!

I inwardly sigh

My phone suddenly buzzes. I look around to see if anyone is looking. No one is paying attention, especially the teacher. Thank God!

I look down and sigh at the contact that appears. I open the text.

Gretta: Hey! How are you? We haven't talked for a while. I miss you, Rosie!

I look up across the aisle to see Gretta slightly smile and give me a small wave.

I roll my eyes and revert them back to my screen

Me: I know we haven't talked. It's been on purpose. We aren't friends anymore.

I send the text without remorse, which surprises me.

annoying ex-friend: Ouch, Rose. That was cold. I said I'm sorry! It won't happen again! I swear!

Gretta has a point. That was cold. The old Rose would never do that!

I guess Asher has had more of an affect on you then you think, my subconscious screams.

It's negative too, I tell myself.

I text Gretta back.

Me: I'm sorry.

Forgiving friend: Does that mean I'm forgiven?

I sigh and numbly move my fingers across the keypad.

Me: Yeah, I guess.

Forgiving friend: You won't regret it! I've missed our fun. ;)

Me: I need a friend right now, I've been going through some complicated stuff.

Forgiving friend: What kind of stuff? Is it boy trouble? I see you've been hanging out with Mr. Dorian, am I right?

How does she know this stuff?

Me: How do you know that?

Creepy stalker: I have my ways...

Our teacher grunts to get the class's attention. I quickly turn off my phone and slide it into my blue backpack.

"Class, start your essay on the choices of a character. Analyze three of them with an introduction paragraph and a conclusion paragraph, so five paragraphs in all. I want it turned in by the end of class," Mister Tyler demands.

The entire class groans. Some of them pound their head on their desks and scream "My life is over!" and some stare at the wall, not able to move because they're too scared about their potential grade on this essay.