He Was A Skaterboy | COMPLETE

eighteen

The sounds of the lockers slamming were grating on his nerves.

Slam.

Slam!

SLAM!

Emre took a deep breath, leaning his forehead against the cool metal. He hadn't seen Kiara since that Saturday and it was Thursday today. His fisted hand rested against the cool metal, in a white knuckled clench. He wanted to call her, to hear her voice, at the very least to text her to ask why she's been absent from school but he couldn't. She had wanted them to go back to how they were before. Before everything changed between them.

He wished it was as easy as saying it and for it to happen with a blink of an eye. But it couldn't. Every moment he had spent with her, it was kept closed to his heart in a box that sprang open in the dead of the night. He could see her face lighted up as she soaked up the experience of being in Times Square. He could see her pursing her lip as she typed their paper for class. He could feel her excitement, the palpable electricity that coursed through her when he'd confess to liking one of her Bollywood movies.

And worst of all he could still feel the ghost of her breath against his lip. He wasn't sure if he should be grateful or mourn the fact that they didn't kiss that day. If they had, it would have been their first and last kiss, which would have felt like both a blessing and a curse. He swallowed, his clenched fist lightly tapping against the metal.

He pulled out his phone again, scrolling through the notifications only looking for her name but there was none. Tapping on the WhatsApp icon, he found their conversation and paused, roughly clicking his phone shut and shoving his phone back into his pocket. The only thing that scared him more than a curt answer from her was not hearing anything at all.

He saw Mila walking up the stairs from he stood and rushed up to her, "Mila...hey Mila...wait up"

"What skaterboy?" she sneered, pausing. Her face displaying nothing but hate for him, which made him blink in confusion.

"Have you heard from Kiara?" he forged on, ignoring her hateful look. "Why isn't she in school?"

"Why do you care?" she asked haughtily.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he took a step back, his hand on his chest. The thing in his chest that leapt as soon as Kiara's was mentioned would beg to differ.

"After the mess that you created, why do you care about Kiara?" Mila seethed.

"I didn't create any mess. In fact, I am walking away because she asked me to..." Emre tried to explain his innocence.

"How convenient, right? Walk away after her life was shat on," she continued brashly.

"She asked me to!" he pleaded; his eyebrows twisted in a frown struggling to maintain his composure.

"Did she ask for you to get close to her? To almost kiss her? To get caught by her mother?" Mila said, her voice controlled but there was no denying her anger.

"She told you all that?" he asked in a small voice, unable to look into Mila's angry eyes.

"Of course, she did" Mila said, her voice restrained as she registered the looks they were getting from the other students walking by. But he could feel it; her need to scream at him.