All He Ever Lusted (Completed) [BEING REWRITTEN]

Chapter Twenty Eight - Growing Pains

{All He Ever Lusted}

Chapter Twenty Eight - Growing Pains

➳ STACEY'S POV

Vivian had gone to a prefect meeting and I was left alone when I walked in the cafeteria. It was jam-packed when I entered, which was usual, since it was right in the middle of lunch period. And of course, the only food left would be porridge and congee, since the students knew that the best they could find in the cafeteria were sandwiches or something that didn’t require real cooking and grabbed them all at the beginning of lunch.

“How is any of this actually edible?” I mumbled to myself as I scanned the food.

Someone pokes me on the ribs and I jumped in surprise. I turned around and met Damon’s gaze. “Oh,” an automatic smile was tempted to crawl onto my face but we hadn’t exactly been on great terms for the past month. “Hey.” 

“Hey Stacey,” he said. Awkward tensions begins to settle in as neither of us say anymore. When I had grabbed a yoghurt and a cookie and began heading to an empty table, Damon holds me by my arm to stop me. 

“Sit with us today, won’t you?” 

I don’t know why, but when he gave me that offer, the only thing I could think of was Alistar. And I know it was low of me to think of him, especially when I could spot Whitney seated next to him at the table but I just wanted to see him. So, I carried my tray to our usual table, except once I settled down, I noticed the unusual tension between Alistar and Damon. They still had small talk, but something just wasn't right.

When Alistar sees me, he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even nod at me.

He’s keeping his distance from me. He’s doing the right thing.

I watched as he continued his hushed conversation with a smiling Whitney, who probably didn’t know I was here. When Alistar whispers something else in her ears, she glances up and her mood immediately changes, expression turning cold. 

“Are you going to eat that?" Damon points at my cookie.

“No," I told him, finally looking away from the two of them. “I’m not really hungry anymore.” 

“Are you still sick? Are you okay?” Damon asks me, tone filled with concern. “Do you want something else to eat?” 

I know it wasn’t Damon’s fault that Alistar was acting distant but I just felt so angry. Not only at him, but everything. Sitting here was a bad idea, being near Alistar was a bad idea. I scooped the rest of my yoghurt, stuffing it down.

“Are you done, Damon?” I grabbed my bag and stood up. Damon looks surprised by my questionable actions but he doesn’t question further. 

“Um, wait,” Damon finishes his sandwich in a couple of bites, then grabs his bag too. He walks over to the bin and dumps our trash. I followed him, and dared to take just one more look at Alistar before I left the table. He doesn’t acknowledge the both of us and I watched as Whitney leans in to say something to Alistar, as the both of them let out a laugh.  

It made me physically sick to look at them and I instantly regretted doing so. The yoghurt which hadn’t been fully digested yet was threatening to come back out of my system. I hated myself so much for this, I hated being so hopeless and I hated that I was still in love with Alistar. 

I had to keep my distance from Alistar, I knew that. Even the message that haunted me knew that. But it was just hard. I had to embrace the fact that Whitney and him were happily together — that all he would ever be is a liar. But no matter how I tried, I couldn’t just forget about our memories. Even though he had changed as a person, the memories remained unchanged. 

And memories are what break us. 

***

“How are you feeling?" Whitney whispers to me in the middle of French. I glanced over at her. She wasn’t looking at me but judging by her body language, she decided not to hate me this class, probably since Alistar wasn’t here.

"Um," I didn’t even bother telling her the truth. Like she cared. “Yeah. Much better.”

"Oh," she looks up from her history notebook. “That’s good.”

I open my mouth to ask her how she knew that I was feeling unwell in the first place, just when my teacher yells out, "Stacey Miller? Are you too busy talking rather than listening to my lesson? This must be interesting."

“I—,” my mouth felt all dried up, like prunes. I hate prunes.

"Now come on, what were you two talking about? Why not share it to the whole class?"

"Sir," I practically squeaked out, "I was listening."

"Really?"

"Yes, sir."

“Then why don’t you tell the class how you would say ‘my mom is doctor’?” 

I look over at Whitney for help, who looks like she's pinching herself to prevent bursting laughing. Screw her.

"Um. Uh.... Je sens comme le fromage?" I stammer out. I think I said it right? That was actually the only phrase in French I knew.

Mr. My-Name-Sounds-Like-A-Sneeze forehead creases, "Are you trying to be funny?"

“No, sir, I didn’t mean to say—”

"Why don't you try to be funny when you serve yourself an hour of detention?" he glares at me, "My office, tonight.”

I walk to the front of the room to receive my detention slip, shame written all over myself. Fuck you, Whitney. This was probably done on purpose too. The bell rang just afterwards, proving just how lucky I was.

"All right. Class dismissed. Good bye. Good bye,” He glowers at me one last time as I pack my stuff up and trudge out of the door.

Whitney was waiting for me outside, and just as I walk near her, she puts her hand up and stops me. She sniffs. Once. Twice.

"I guess you do smell like cheese," she snickers at her own joke.

What?

Oh right. Silly me.

(A/N: sorry for the random author’s note here but the phrase Stacey said was: I smell like cheese and I KNOW it’s not accurate but google translate was my only way to go! When you type it in, it actually translates back to: ‘i feel like cheese’ LOL)

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