Liquid Feels - Book 3 - DP Series - Complete

17. Cassandra

My Tuesday morning class is canceled. Sad for the teacher with the flu, but yay for me. Now I get to stroll around campus desperately searching for entertainment. It's unfortunate that the nearest activity to our school is Walmart, and even that is a good twenty minutes away.

I'm bored. Really bored.

Our campus is in the heart of Greenville, so making my way downtown by foot takes a whole five minutes. It's kind of cute. We've got an old-fashioned pizza parlor, an old-fashioned movie theater, a very modern Dairy Queen inside of an old-fashioned ice-cream shop. Everything is very historical and kind of charming, but my favorite place is the center of town where they have a large brick bank with shiny narrow windows and a simple white gazebo on the corner.

I cross the street, taking a seat as I watch people begin their days. It's still pretty quiet—just me and a couple of birds—and it makes me wish I had a cup of hot tea in my hands. There's just something about holding a mug, steaming with something warm and fresh in your hands that always seems cozy and invigorating.

Resting my arms on the rails of the gazebo, I stare out at the awakening world. Everything is glimmering in the orange glow of morning and it feels like the soft warmth is the sun's personal greeting to me. I close my eyes, basking in the rightness of this moment. The quiet, uninterrupted peace. It's not something I normally yearn for. I prefer a little more chaos—a little more activity—but sometimes a little less from life is nice.

Until I open my eyes. It's as if the entire scene around me—the warmth, the sun, the birds—were all just part of an illusion—a staged trick—that's suddenly being swallowed up inside of a black, hungry cloud. My stomach drops, all my senses going numb as my vision narrows. I'm aware of nothing at all except the fact that I feel like I might be sick, and yet, I can't pull my eyes away.

They exit the quaint diner at the end of the street, his hand resting at the small of her back as he escorts her down the street. His smile... the one that weakens my confidence. The one that muddles my brain and makes me lose myself. The one that takes me too much energy to find. For one fleeting moment, I hate that smile. Because it's in full blaze, but it's not pointed at me.

Cassandra walks beside Seth, her hands curled around the strap of her purse where it hangs diagonally across her torso. I can't hear them, but I know she's giggling at something Seth has just said, and he likes it. He's enjoying the fact that she's enamored with him. He's soaking in her attention as if he's a magnifying glass and she's the sun. Only, in this instance, I'm the bug getting fried to a crisp beneath her inferno.

I'm struggling to breathe, and it feels like my clothes are on fire. I just want to rip everything away. A cold shower might work, but I'm not sure my legs know how to move.

I'm not this girl. I'm the one who gets wounded and can't find herself. Boys don't control my feelings. Nobody controls my feelings but me. Except, somewhere along the way it seems I gave Seth way too much power. He never asked for it, nor did he even seem to want it, but I handed it to him without a single thought. Because I knew I wouldn't get hurt. I knew I'd figure out a way.

I snagged his attention once. There had to be a way to do it again... only this time, I'd make sure he wanted me back. I'd be more than just a surprise or a solution. I'd make him crave my attention. He'd be begging to get Cassandra out of his life.

That had been my plan anyway... but now it's blowing up in my face.

I drop my gaze from them as they make their way down the sidewalk. They're drawing closer to me but are still on the other side of the road. As long as I remain tucked in this sweltering gazebo, hidden behind a wooden beam, they'll never notice me. At least, that's what I tell myself is keeping them from noticing me. In reality, I wonder if maybe they're just too wrapped up in each other to give the world a glance.