Dance Again (Dancing Styles Sequel)

Chapter 32

(A/N) WOW guys. Just WOW. You were INCREDIBLE with all the votes and stuff on the last chapter c: Thank you so much for all of the votes and comments! I honestly can't believe that this story is coming to a close soon! I don't know what I'm going to do with myself when it's over! (other than writing my other stories... you know) haha #writerprobs

...I can't believe I actually just used a hashtag.

Thank you also for all of the birthday wishes guys

Again, your support is really important to me, the writing of this story has been quite a journey for me, and I hope that you have enjoyed it just as much as I have. Thank you guys again<3

I'm leaving tomorrow morning for my little vacation, so I will definitely be getting lots and lots of writing done for you guys "fingers crossed", it's supposed to rain so that's more time for writing i'll probably have (; So expect multiple updates upon my return!

ANYWHO. Onto the next chapter. I hope it meets all of you guys' expectations

Does anybody else miss the meebo chat bar thingy? I miss it /: 

 xoxo

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~*Bella's POV*~

I got through most of my morning alright, but by the time History class rolled around, I started to feel my stomach twisting up in anxiety. Tristan wouldn't be mad at me or anything; he had no right to be. I had done nothing wrong regarding us, and if anything, I should be the one mad at him.

I walked into the room, and there was no sign of him. I let out a breath of relief, sliding into my seat and taking my copy book out. I wanted to be ready and attentive for class, what with exams coming up so soon and everything.

The room was slowly starting to fill up, the teacher not yet moving from the front though. We had another minute or two before the class started, I pulled out my phone, willing there to be a text or something from somebody. Anybody. But the screen was empty. I wasn't used to that. I normally had some sort of twitter notification or something from facebook. But nothing. My screen was just a snapshot of James and I that had been taken a few weeks ago. It was one of my favourites.

At the last possible moment, Tristan staggered into the room, looking pale, exhausted, and genuinely not well.

"May I please go to the nurse? I feel ill." I could hear him speaking in a low tone to the teacher.

The teacher was eyeing him with concern and nodded, writing a pass for him on a slip of paper.

He looked over at Tristan with worry still in his eyes before looking at me.

"Miss Styles, Can you please escort Tristan here to the nurse's station? I don't feel comfortable sending him by himself." he asked.

Whispers broke out among the class, and Tristan winked at me, despite his pale pallor.

"Of course." I murmured, scooping up my books and moving forward to collect the few items that Tristan had with him.

"I could have carried my own stuff." He argued when we were out in the hallway, making our way towards the station.