What are the CHANCEs? (A Greyson Chance Fan Fic) [EDITING/ON HOLD]

Chapter 26

            I recognized that voice instantly, although it didn’t register in my brain completely. “Go away,” I mumbled with an obvious snot filled nose.

            “No, please come out.” The voice behind the stall door replied, concern clear in their voice. I sit still with my arms holding my legs tight against my body. I wait to see the shoes outside the door walk away but they never budge.

            “Please, I just want to talk.”

I don’t reply.

“I’m not moving until you come out.”

I sigh to myself, although not loud enough for him to hear. Wiping away the few undried tears left on my face, I get up and open the door.

I’ve never seen him look like this before; so…disheveled. I keep expecting something to happen, perhaps him lashing out on me, but all he does is analyze me in my vulnerable state.

The gears in my head start to churn and the sight of him is making me sicker and angrier by the second.

“You started this… This is all your fault,” I finally mutter.

            He looks taken aback for a second. “What…?”

            “You heard me,” my voice a lot louder this time. “You. Did. This. What the fuck is wrong with you?” I don’t give him a chance to say anything. I get in his face and poke his chest. “You just can’t get it through your thick skull, can you? You’ve been planning this all along, haven’t you? You make me sick. You think you’re so much better than everyone. That you can go prancing around as if you own the place. You just can’t bear to see me happy for once, can you?”

            And that’s when I feel a pair of lips smushed against mine.

I don’t kiss him back-nor do I pull away. It’s he who let’s go after a few seconds. I’m so in shock that I cannot reply.

            “I’m sorry.” He whispers. He takes my hand and stuffs a crumpled note into it, before scurrying off.

Scott Raymond just kissed me.

            Yes, the Scott Raymond.

            I stare at the crinkled ball in my hand as if waiting for it to magically transform into a venomous snake and bite me to save me from my confusion.

            I put it into my backpack cautiously and am left with no choice but to head off to first period. It’s either getting even more screwed by not showing up to class, or wallowing in my own sadness in the dirty school bathrooms.

            The halls are empty for the most part, with a few faculty here and there, trying to peel off the millions of posters of me on the walls. One of them, an old lady that is rumored to have worked here for over 20 years, makes eye contact with me and gave me a sympathetic smile. I smile back. Knowing that there are some good people in the world warms my heart and takes my mind elsewhere for a fraction of a second.

            The day goes by just as you would expect: people stared at me, some taunted me, Greyson yelled at them. And of course, I never told him about the little encounter I had in the bathroom. Nor did I ever get a chance to look at the note. Ha ha, get it…  CHANCE. Shut up, I’m too distraught to think of a good joke.

            In fact, I had completely pushed the thought of the note out of my mind. It wasn’t until I was home a few days later and was digging around for a pencil in my backpack, when my hand landed on it and I remembered it again. I sighed and finally decided to give it a go.