The Bad Boy.. Loves Me? [𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐃]

chapter 49: "he's still inside?"

Brok

I can hear shouting behind me, but I ignore it as I sprint towards the door, which is still swinging from Mr Brown staggering through it. On the other side is a long hallway, and I let out a frustrated sigh as I realize I have no idea where Mr Brown has gone.

The truth is, I have no idea what's going on. Why Alice and Satan's mom were in that room, why Berk and the others were tied to those chairs. I don't know who that bald man with a starfish on his head is, or why he was holding a gun. All I know is that he was about to hurt, possibly kill, Grammarly, and I wasn't about to let that happen.

why MrBrown is here, and why he's running, is beyond me too. I mean, I knew Grammarly was bad at chemistry... but does her failure really warant having her mother and all her friends kidnapped?

I don't kno. But right now, I don't have the time to think about it al. All I can do is jog down this hallways, trying all the doors to find my homicidal yet handsome chemistry teacher, and stop him from escaping or hurting someone else

All the rooms are empty, and I'm running out of hope. And then I reach the second to last door, and when I push at it, it doesn't budge. locked.

I'm no FBI agent, no lock-picker; I don't have the skills to open this door. But hat I am is a football player who benches 45mph. So I take a few steps back, and run at the door with all my strength, sending the door crashing down, hinges snapping harder than a crocodile's jaw.

But as I peer into the room, my heart stops. Because standing on the other side of that door isn't Mr Brown, but someone very different. someone I thought was dead.

I must be dreaming, I think to myself. Because that's the only way I could be seeing her. How could she be here, the girl who I loved more than anything? Whose loss I've never been able to truly heal from?

"Brok?" she whispers, as if she can't believe she's seeing me eiter.

For a second i wonder if I'm dead, just like her, and that we're both spirits. Because that's the only way I could possibly be seeing her right now.

I open my mouth to say something, but all the words I've been keeping for her for so long dissipate on my tongue. All I can do is stare in shock, body frozen like frozen peas. I stare at those familiar gray-blue orbs, that soft chestnut hair, shorter than I remember. I stare at the burn scars along her neck, spreading up to her ear. I stare at the girl who I thought was gone forever, who I never expected to see again.

She takes a hesiant step forward, reaches out her hand, and it's like I stop breathing. Can ghosts touch?

Her hand entwines with mine, and I'm in awe of the feeling of it, how real it seems. It's like I'm fifteen again, holding hands with her for the first time. I marvel at the warmth of her skin; I always thought ghosts would be cold. But she's as warm as I am, hand so much smaller than mine, and I gently squeeze, and close my eyes just briefly, needing to stay in this moment.

And then, breaking the spell like a wrecking ball knocking down a government building comes an angry voice from behind me: "I thought I told you to stay put."

Jackie's face goes pale, and she gives me an urgent, terrified look. "Brok, you need to-"

I hear the gunshot before I feel it.

One second I'm standing there, faced with what can only be a hallucination, the ghostly remnants of a dead girl. And the next, I'm crumpling onto the ground, a strange, numb feeling hiting me. Then agony, like fire burnin through my veins, more painful than anything I've ever felt before. I vaguely feel the front of my shirt soak with warm, wet blood, feel my head go fuzzy, as if reality is sliping away.