Runaway Love

|| Chapter Eight ||

" athazagoraphobia

(n.) the fear of forgetting, being forgotten or ignored, or being replaced. "

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AAAAHH! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 500+ VIEWS, SEDDIE AND CREDDIE FANS! ❤

For this, prepare yourself for some dah-rah-mah! (Drama, if you didn't get it 😂).

I know, I know.

You must be like "Finally!" 😒

Don't quit on me just yet!

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~Chapter Eight: Runaway Love (previously known as I'm In Love With A Nerd) ~

True to my word, I didn't go to school the next day. I know that exams are around the corner and that if I stay at home, I'll miss important classes, but honestly, I don't really care.

Freddie and Carly, in as much as I am proud of them for lying, were beginning to tick me off.

Why would they lie to me? I didn't even make a big deal when I found out that they were dating. I still don't.

Do they think that I'll get hurt? Get hurt by what? Not having a boyfriend? I don't need a boyfriend, as long as I have food and TV by my side. At least they would be loyal to me.

I decided to spend the day out of my crammed apartment. After taking a bath and dressing into clothes appropriate enough for society, I left.

I hopped onto my motorcycle and drove on the road for what felt like minutes, but really it was hours. I went to my spot — a place that I go to ventilate, if violence isn't the answer to the situation.

I parked my motorcycle and slowly took of my helmet. The wind ran through my blonde hair and I took a deep breath. I got off the motorcycle.

After attaching the strap of the helmet to the handle of my motorcycle, I walked to the railing which was a few feet away from my motorcycle.

My eyes took in the view. I was a couple of feet elevated. There were a lot of slopes and green was the main colour as far as the eye could see. There were a couple of houses, half hidden in the trees. If I jumped off the railing, it would be an instant death.

Boy, would that be painful, I thought to myself as I leaned on the railing.

For some reason, I now have the urge to go to Texas.

About an hour or two passed by and my feet were aching. I turned to go to the one thing that I love most, when my eyes widened. Walking over to where I left it, I started to feel the motorcycle.

I tried to feel the handle, the seat, the engine — but really, what I was feeling was nothing but empty air. My baby was gone!

Gritting my teeth, I crouched down to see if the thief had left any tracks. There was a faint trail of the marks my motorcycle usually leaves. This means that the person must have dragged it slowly, so that I don't hear them.

Why don't I have falcon hearing?
It would have come in helpful right now.

As I look up, I saw a figure move by. My icy blue eyes connected with his frightened brown ones. So there's the bandit. And by the looks of it, he's trying to make a run for it.

Not on my baby, he's not.

My nose flared. I charged at the man at full speed. Quickly, he tried to start the engine. Yes! I was smart enough not to leave the keys in the ignition. I mean who does that?