Cellanous

chapter sixteen : wild things don't need you anymore

A pang of emptiness hit my stomach and I felt exhausted again. A yawn crept to my lips, escaping before I could catch it. Regret, times ten, smacked me in the face as the icy air clawed down my throat.

A sneeze burst out the next moment and that's when it hit me that I should probably get to class. Didn't want to get sick of all days, of course. Plus, I only had two more hours of school left and I was home-free. Or rather, I should say, apartment-free.

. . . right?

My luck was probably one of the shittiest things ever.

Today just had happened to be Friday; the day that I would have to go to the Host Club in order to cover my ass. Of course, it had to be the day when I really wanted -  no needed - to do was go home and sleep for the rest of the weekend. Great. Just great.

I sat in one of the corners, trying my best to keep myself from gaining any attention whatsoever. Obviously though, it was completely fruitless, considering the amount of stares, glances, and whispers going around. Then again, I was the reason why some of these people had come here.

Readjusting, my position on the chair, I continued to stare down at my hands which happened to be in my lap. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep the facade that I honestly didn't give a crap that they were staring at me. Thank god all I had to do was sit. Unfortunately, they had forgotten to take in the fact that boredom was a factor here.

My shoulders rolled back and a satisfying pop could barely be heard, but was there. Attention back on the people in the room, I decided to count how many people here had black hair. About half way through, I realized what kind of mess I had gotten myself into, thus ditching that operation and returned back to watching.

About five minutes into that, my boredom got the best of me and I dug around in my bag before fishing out my phone. Swiping it open, I realized that I had a bunch of missed notifications. There were some messages from Michelle, asking for advice about a party coming up for Christmas, some update messages from Lucas and Sarah about some lovely drama happening back home, and a missed called from . . . oh.

Mind completely blank, I stared down at the missed call. I knew that phone number from anywhere. It had been the same phone number that he had scribbled on my arm the day we met. It was the same phone number that I had excitedly called the next day, starting probably one of the worst six month things to happen to me in my life. It was the same phone number I had excitedly punched into my phone every single day just to be able to hear and talk to him.

My heart started to hammer, whether in fear or anger, I didn't know, but I came to fast enough to beat it down before it could rear it's ugly head. I didn't need to loose control over myself right now. But still, why would he call me after that? Maybe he was in trouble or something? I quickly dismissed these ideas as he didn't leave a voicemail, but curiosity was starting to get the better of me.

After tossing it back and forth in my head for another handful of minutes, I thought fuck it. This couldn't possibly make my day any worse.

.&.

I silently closed the door behind me, making sure that even the click was inaudible, despite the fact that you couldn't probably even hear a door being opened in that room anyways. It was relatively loud, considering the amount of people in there.

Walking forward, deeper into the room, it became quickly apparent that this was some type of storage room. Desks, tables, chairs, and other school furniture had been placed in here. Leaning forward, I let one of my fingers swipe the top of one of the surfaces. Dusty as hell. Not that I was caring; it just meant the possibility of someone coming in here was pretty low.