the one before me - mr harrigan's phone

9 - i'm lovesick.

❝ I don't care how long it takes. as long as I'm with you, I've got a smile on my face. ❞

- here with me by d4vd
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CRAIG'S POV

My body leaned on the back of the chair, my chin resting on the palm of my hand as I gazed out into nothingness, not sure of what I was even thinking about. My mind would always be set on Kenny, and how stupid the scene of his death looked. I haven't even been told, but I just know it wasn't coincidental. It was the voicemail I made. But that wasn't the only thing on my mind.

"Craig," A voice calmly called out to me, interrupting my thoughts. I whipped my head towards the voice.

"Hm?" I hummed. It was Ms. Hart, leaning against her desk; an empty classroom which made it only the two of us, "Oh," I said once I realised, snapping back into reality and quickly packing my books.

"No, wait a minute," She spoke, but I merely turned to her, slipping my science journal into my bag.

"No, I got class," I tried to explain, trying to get away from the situation as fast as possible.

"I'll write you a note," She ultimately said, leaving me no choice but to stay for a tiny bit longer. I sat back down in my seat, sliding down it in despair.

"Where are you today?" She asked, folding her arms. I turned my body diagonally to avoid the attached table on the chair, my body becoming small from anxiousness, resting my crossed hands on my lap.

"Here," I quietly responded, looking back at her.

"Not really," She said, "Is it about Kenny?" I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, swaying from side to side, "Craig,"

Signs of anxiousness.

I could hear Matilda's voice in my head echo, telling me to stop, and so I did. I sat still, prompting my shoulders up but still avoiding Ms. Hart's eyes.

"If you're thinking you had something to do with his death," Ms. Hart began, sitting on a chair in front of me, "I've seen his records. Kenny was... sadly a kid with serious problems. Home problems, school problems. He had psychological problems. I don't know what happened, but it had nothing to do with you."

Ms. Hart's words were always comforting, and were always right. I looked around the class, eager to get out of there and just forget about it, hopefully. It was quiet for a bit before Ms. Hart spoke again.

"Ok, go ahead. You'll make your class," She said with a comforting smile. I grabbed my textbook and bag, swinging it onto my shoulder and started to walk out of the classroom, "Craig," Ms Hart called out one more time. I spun around, latching onto the strap of my bag.

"I can never be glad when a child dies. But I can be glad it wasn't you," She finally said. I nodded, giving her a small smile and putting my hands into my pocket, standing there quietly.

Why aren't you going to class?

"There's something else, is there not?" She asked, hands overlapping together and hanging in front of her body, "... A girl, perhaps? Regina?" She said, giving me a small smirk.

"Oh, no, no. She was just my date for the dance, that's all," I responded, almost too quickly. She gave me a small smirk, chuckling slightly.

"So, the other one. The one that helped you? I saw you two walking down the corridor that night," I stayed quiet, looking at the ground before meeting her eyes again, a glint of hope and cherishment in her chocolate brown eyes, "So it is?"

"I- well-" I said, scratching the back of my neck, trying to think of a way to explain it before finally relaxing myself, "Yeah," I mumbled, barely loud enough to make Ms. Hart's heart melt inside her.