Addicted z.m

Chapter 9

She stood up quickly as soon as we dismissed. I quickly gathered my stuff and hurried to catch her.

"Perrie!" I called after her. "Wait!" She stopped where she was and slowly turned around. I could tell by the look in her eye she was already mentally disregarding everything I had to say.

"What?" she shrugged sassily.

"I'm sorry," I said, not sure what to start with. "I never intended to hurt you. I was under the impression you guys were broken up-"

"And I was under the impression that you were over him," she snapped. "The fact that you went after him not even twenty-four hours after our break up is what hurts. He told me a month before school let back in that if he ever saw you again, he wouldn't go running back to you. He said he was over you. He told me you would never come between us-"

"He said I had nothing to do with his reasons for breaking up with you," I corrected.

"That's not the bloody point," she hissed. "I feel betrayed, not because of your irrelevant intentions, but because you both lied to my face then went behind my back."

"I never planned on going that far with him-"

"Your fucking 'intentions' don't mean shit now!" she erupted. "It happened, and there's nothing you could say or do that could change that. Do us both a favour and save your pleading for Zayn. He just loves when you beg." She glared at me before turning away and left the hall.

I could feel my throat and stomach twisting in unison and tying themselves together. I rushed outside after giving myself a moment to comprehend what just happened. My theory that getting some fresh air would loosen up my guilt was shot to hell. I could feel my feet walking fast. They knew where they were headed, but my brain wasn't on campus, let alone connected to any part of my body.

I was in the need of comfort - somewhere to just hide and cry. My body's instant response to this led me to the art hall, but I was regretting this decision the second Tracy's eyes fell on mine.

"He's busy," she spoke before I even reached her desk.

My disconnected mind took this as an excuse to turn back around. My mind didn't want to be here. I knew I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to see him. But my mouth took over, instinctively saying, "I need to see him."

"I said, he's busy," she enunciated her words threateningly.

I stared at her, mentally trying to tug my brain back to Earth and regain control of myself. I could just walk away and he'd never know I was here. There'd be nothing to-

"Trace, I'm taking an early lunch. Professor Greene has a conference with Mr. Tegtmayer. I won't be needed for a while."

"Of course, sir," she nodded obeyingly.

"Would you-" he lifted his head and smiled. "Hey, what are you-?"

I assumed the fact that I was unable to breathe registered with him.

He stepped from behind the desk and grabbed my arms. "What's wrong?" he frowned. "What happened?"

I shook my head. "I don't want to talk about it. It's nothing."

"Spencer," he scolded. "You look mortified."

I swallowed down the knot. "Not so much mortified as I feel guilty."

It clicked and he sighed, pulling me to his chest. "You talked to her, didn't you?"

I nodded against his expensive dress-shirt. "I couldn't stand feeling the hatred eroding from her and not at least attempting to explain."