I can feel Rose's eyes on me even though the lecture is in full swing. Her baby blue irises are relentless, demanding my attention but, when I finally turn to glance at her, she merely raises an eyebrow in distaste. I haven't told her much about my visitation, and she is genuinely concerned and frustrated.
I stare forward, pretending the poetic nonsense written on the blackboard makes sense, though it seems like nothing but gibberish to my hectic mind. The professor drones on in the background and, before I know it, class is coming to an end.
I stand immediately, hoping to make a quick escape, but Rose is close behind.
I can smell the vanilla tinged shampoo she uses as she grasps my arm, spinning me to look at her once we are in the hallway.
"Why the fuck have you been dodging my calls?" she asks.
I pull my arm from her grasp and say, "Anthony's still out with his injuries. I've been helping..." but she's already shaking her head and looking around, moving to pull me into the empty classroom across from us.
She leans against the nearest desk, and crosses her arms, looking at me expectantly.
"It's only been two days," I start, but she is already shaking her head. Her sky-blue eyes glimmer with irritation.
"The last time I saw you, or talked to you, I was dropping you off at your mom's house in a heap of emotion." Her fingers tap against her upper arm. "I tried calling to make sure you were okay. The least you could have done was text me."
I sigh and pull my fingers through my hair. I'd left this morning with it still wet and a few snarls snag painfully.
It's not that I was ignoring Rose on purpose, I just... didn't know what to say. What is there to say?
"I'm fine," I settle on after a while, but the way she is looking at me, I know she doesn't believe me.
Finally, she sighs, halfway rolling her eyes and looking behind her towards the cracked door. She glances back at me and lets her arms slip from their hold. Her eyes soften and I know I've been forgiven.
"You're not planning on going back, are you?"
The question stuns me though I should have expected it, especially from someone like Rosalie. To her, the world is black and white. Yes or no. There's no in between, no halfway points, no uncertainties. I wish, beyond belief, that I could steal some of her strength. I need it now more than ever.
I bite my lip and shake my head, hoping to convince her enough to stray from this topic. It's not that I have plans to visit again, or have anything left to say or anything left I should want to say, but Devyn and I have always had this magnetic pull. Even miles apart, I can still feel the energy drawing me back.
It's one thing to feel it; it's another completely to act upon it.
"Dahlia," she chastises and I can already feel the tears stinging.
Her voice softens as she says, "He's not good for you, Dahlia," and she sounds just like my mother. I bite the retort that she doesn't even know him, that she doesn't know the entire story, but I know that would sound defensive, and he is not one to defend. Besides, defending him had been my entire life throughout high school. Defending him to my mother, to Alice, to his own father, even.
I hate that defending him has become second nature but I hate even more that I'm desperate to hear someone else defend him, too.
YOU ARE READING
TEN MINUTES
Romance"Can you answer my one question?" he asks desperately, his fingers running through his hair again. "Did you ever love me?" The air that leaves my lungs surprises even me, and I almost want to laugh. "Of course I did," I answer. "That was the probl...
