haunted (S.M)

four

 Simon:

I watch as she leaves, this seeming to be a usual occurrence now. Her walk isn't anywhere as near as confident as it used to be, she seems to be missing something. Her eyes seem to be a little more dead, her hair seems to be somehow duller and her glow has been reduced to a depressing dull, dim light. I follow after her, but I'm stopped by a teacher.

"Simon, can I have a minute?" My maths teacher asks me, his eyebrows furrowing as two year eight's run past, but he sighs and ignores it.

"What can I do for you, sir?" I ask, my eyes diverting down the corridor and trying to catch a glimpse of her.

"Adalynn Myers, you know her?" He questions and my head snaps back so fast that I am almost positive I now have whiplash.

"Adalynn Mye-Addie?" I mumble, her name being fairly ordinary in contrast to her personality.

"Yes, yes-whatever you call her, I marked her test paper she did so I could see where she's at in terms of ability and she-let's just says she's shown a lot of room for improvement, maybe you could offer your services to her?" He says what he wants in the form of a question, despite me knowing it's more of a command.

"I don't think she'd really want that." I awkwardly reply.

"Well, it doesn't matter what she wants, it matters that she passes maths since she failed it in her GCSE's, I've told her she has a tutoring session, she said that whoever it is can just come to her dorm." He hands me a piece of paper with her dorm room on it and pats me on the shoulder before walking back in to his classroom.

"Fan-fucking-tastic." I groan to myself.

"Where are you going?" Harry asks, as I begin to walk towards the dorms and he stands still, a confused look plastered on to his face.

"Uh-gotta go see someone...about something?" I reply, as more of a question.

"Well, football's on later, at seven, see you then." Harry nods, before walking down to the school gates.

"I'll be there, unless I'm six foot under." I mumble, before walking in to the entrance of the dorm.

I smile politely at the security guard at the front, who nods in response. I walk up the one flight of stairs to the second floor, where her dorm is situated. I pass a few girls in the corridor, who smile flirtatiously at me, I only offer a simple smile in return as I reach her door. I go to nervously knock on the door, but find it already slightly ajar. I cautiously push it open further and enter. I look around, trying to get to grips with my situation and scenery. I hear the shower running and before I have time to react, the door opens and she walks in to the room in just her towel. She doesn't notice me for a few seconds, before her head whips up to look at me and she lets out a small, shocked scream.

"What the fu-why are you in my room?" She shouts, pulling the towel tighter around her small frame. 

"I-uh-I'm your tutor, I-the door was open and-" I can't help but stutter as I study her figure, it being mesmerising.

She lets out an annoyed sigh and I watch as she processes the situation. 

"I don't need a tutor." She defiantly says.

"You sure? That's not what your thirty four out of one hundred said." I smirk back, my mean streak returning, unintentionally. 

"What, so you think you're better than me because you can add some fucking numbers together? You know what your problem is, you're so fucking full of yourself-get over your pretty boy, intelligent yet mysterious persona you got going on because I ain't buying it." She yells, her hand still tightly clutching her towel.

"You think I'm pretty? So kind." I sarcastically reply.

"Close the door on your way out." She mutters, walking back in to the bathroom and slamming the door.

"Well, isn't she a delight." I groan.

I go to leave but notice a small photo nestled in to the small cubbyhole which is built in to her plain, white desk. I pick it up carefully and study it:

Addie stands in a gorgeous dress, yet she manages to somehow outshine it. It's a midnight blue colour, with small crystals covering the lower half of the dress in a whimsical fashion. It's a sleeveless number and a pretty silver necklace makes up for the emptiness left by no upper half to the dress. Her hair is braided back and she is grinning. She is alone in the photo, I turn it over and frown:

'Addie, you looked incredible at prom, wish I had been there, love Jake X'

Addie:

I walk back in to my room to find it Simon-less, he has left, finally. I notice he's left a smell of fairly-strong aftershave, it being a nice smell but something I'd rather find myself not having to breathe in and infect my lungs with. I grab my Vans, shoving them on to my feet and making my way out of my room, making sure to lock the door. I shove my hands in to my jacket pockets as I emerge out of the dorm doors and in to the cold of the evening air. I walk down the street and in to town, the sounds of teenagers laughing as they throw chips at each other in the local McDonalds and adults in business attire dragging their mucky kids after them with their phones glued to their ears in a desperate attempt to look like fully-functioning parents. I turn and enter the post office, it's probably the oldest building in this town and the woman who works here always smiles at me. She reminds me of my mum.

"Hey, Karen." I greet her, as I wipe my wet feet on the mat before walking to her.

"Ah-hello, Adalynn." She insisted she call me by my full name, much to my dismay.

"Has my package arrived yet?" I question and she nods.

"Let me fetch it for you." She smiles, walking in to the back room.

"You're Addie, right?" A voice asks, I turn to see a boy I recognise from my maths class standing there.

"And you are?" I retort.

He chuckles, "oh, so you really are as defensive as Simon says, and I'm Harry."

"I'm not defen-" I begin but Karen cuts me off.

"Here you go, lovely." She grins, her warm tone being out-shadowed by my cold one.

"Thanks." I simply say, signing for it and carrying the box out.

"Y'know, you're giving Simon a hard time for no rea-" Harry walks out with me, but I stop him.

"And you're giving me a hard time for no reason, he's the one who keeps making it his mission to talk to me, I don't like him, I don't like you and I don't care if you think I'm mean or defensive or whatever, your little insecurities happen to not be that prioritised on my to-do list right now, so if you don't mind." I begin to walk away and I hear him chuckle under his breath.

"Lovely talking to you too!" He exclaims, laughing.

"Dickhead." I mumble under my breath.

I carefully unwrap the package, making sure to not damage or rip anything as the packaging comes apart in my hands. I reach inside and pull out what I have been longing for for so long. His football top sits in my hands, his scent still somehow lingering on it, like he is still here. I take my own shirt off and replace it with his, the warmth of it enveloping my skin with every frictional feel of the material. I hug the shirt and lie down, my eyes closing and my heartbeat ringing in my ears.