When The School Bell Rings

• CHAPTER • FIFTY TWO •

It's been a week. 

I've spent every day since they told me at my house, alone in my room for the most part. 

When I do encounter my brothers, they look at me with a mix of confusion and judgement. 

School has been awkward. I've managed to avoid any alone time with the guys, feigning cheer meetings or after school study sessions in the library. 

As I sit in the reading nook of my room, which is essentially the bay window ledge covered in pillows and blankets, my eyes drift up from my book. The glowing, crescent moon relaxes me as I stare at the simplicity and importance of the far away fascination. My breaths deepen as my body relaxes, my mind beginning to count the stars twinkling in the sky. 

I close my book and shift my position, curling up under the fluffy blanket with the side of my head pressed against the window. My eyes flutter closed as relaxed exhaustion takes over, making my eyelids weigh heavier than I can lift. 

By the time I wake up, the sun is creeping through the window bay, blinding my tired eyes as they blink open. My neck aches from the angle I slept in and I reach around the back to rub it soothingly. 

I glance at the time on my phone and sigh. 

Despite sleeping for about 8 hours, I feel even more tired than ever. 

Swinging my legs off the windowsill, I walk on shaky legs to the bathroom, forcing myself to take a warm shower before I face the day. 

School.

After scrubbing myself more than necessary under the hot stream of water, I dress in a pair of blue mom jeans and a burgundy cable-knit sweater. 

I dry my hair and curl it so it cascades down my back in long brown tendrils. I add a matching burgundy bow to the hair I have pulled back from my face. Foregoing the makeup today, I put on some black ankle boots with a slight heel and grab my bag before walking out the door. 

I decide to walk to school, letting the crisp, cold air nip at my exposed skin with each step. The clouds are shadowing my dread, the weather somehow understanding and reciprocating my mood. 

After about half an hour, I reach my locker and check my schedule, letting out a groan when I see my first class of the day. 

Gathering my nerves back inside me, I grab my textbook and head to my class. With each step, my mind warns me to run away but I don't listen. 

I'm not going to sacrifice my education for any man. 

I keep my head down as I walk into the classroom, ignoring the scent of his cedar wood and sage aftershave as I head to my desk. 

Opening my textbook, I try to distract myself by reading through one of the chapters. My eyes scan over the same sentence endlessly, the contents not registering in my mind, as I listen to his husky voice. He's talking to a student about finals but is somehow managing to completely disrupt my sanity in the process. 

Fuck hormones. 

The lesson begins and I finally look up, seeing his black-rimmed glasses sitting low on his nose as he addresses the class. His blonde hair is messy but stylised, making him look even more rugged and irresistible despite the mental distance I've placed between us. 

Get a grip, Camille. 

When his blue irises drift to me, my breath catches. I feel my cheeks heat under his gaze, a wave of nausea suddenly hitting me to cancel out the blush. 

I try to take deep breaths, reaching for my water and taking a sip. 

He flickers back to the class, continuing to discuss the book we're analysing as part of the curriculum. 

The sickness doubles, my gut warning me to rush to the bathroom as my skin begins to tingle with anxiety. 

Fuck. 

A gag threatens my lips and I stand quickly, causing Luka's eyes to look at me instinctively. He furrows an eyebrow and clears his throat but my stomach starts to burn. 

I clasp a hand over my mouth, begging my stomach to at least hold on until I'm keeling over a toilet. 

With wide eyes, I meet his before running out of the classroom, rushing to the nearest bathroom. 

Slamming the stall door closed behind me, I kneel over the toilet, sick reeling out of me before I can stop it. I cough as bile replaces it, my throat burning at the stomach acid. 

I try to sit back but another wave of nausea hits me, causing me to spill more of my guts out until there is nothing but bile left in me. 

Tears begin to stream down my face as anxiety overwhelms me, my whole body shaking from the shock.

When the cause subsides, I rest my back against the stall door, curling my legs up to my torso as I let myself cry. Sobs escape my lips, the feeling of being alone and anxious weighing heavy on my heart. 

Above the ringing in my ears, I hear the door to the bathroom slam open, followed by multiple footsteps. The lock is turned and I realise who it is by the mix of their aftershaves invading the small space. 

The strong smell of them causes another wave of sickness, making me keel over the toilet once again as I gag. 

The stall door opens and I realise I didn't get chance to lock it earlier. My body tenses but the tears continue to fall. 

I feel a hand rub my back soothingly whilst another pulls my hair out of my face. 

We stay in silence as I continue to suffer over the toilet bowl until I can muster up the strength to sit back again. 

Looking up through tear filled eyes, I see Luka and Zander staring down at me, concern and worry in their eyes. 

"Fuck, are you pregnant, Camille?"

I'm so sorry for taking so long to update this. 

I've had a crazy few weeks. 

I also struggle with this book, as you may know, so it takes me a while to build motivation due to not really having a plan of what's going to happen. 

Anyway, love you and thank you for sticking with me <3