Maybe It Was Fate

Chapter Twenty-Seven

My knife scrapes along the bottom of the Nutella jar before I bring the chocolatey goodness to my mouth. Damn I love chocolate.

I'm currently sitting in my room; I've made a little nest like area out of pillows and fluffy blankets for me to snuggle in whilst I re-watch the whole of Stanger Things.

I'm halfway through one of the episodes where things are getting juicy when a knock sounds at the door. I groan, not wanting to get out of my little hidey hole I've created.

As soon as my feet touch the floor, I want to crawl back into bed. Although the constant tapping on the front door would make it very hard to concentrate so the only thing I can do it answer the door.

I bound down the stairs, heading for the front door, keen to get back into bed and continue my episode. My hand grabs the slick metal door handle and tugs it, the door swinging open.

Standing at the front door is Chris, his eyes trained on the floor. As soon as the door opens, his eyes snap up, locking on me.

"Hey," I start, my voice sounding soft and quiet.

I didn't expect any of my friends to come over and check on me. Maybe a phone call or a text but not standing at my front door, knocking consistently until I opened it.

"Are you okay?" Chris's voice wavers slightly, but he clears his throat to cover it up.

I nod in response to his question, not trusting my voice to give me away.

"It's just..." His voice trails off for a moment. "You've been-"

I cut him off. "I can't do this right now."

I slam the door in his face, guilt instantly filling my gut until it's overflowing. I can't do it. I can't talk to him about this because he just won't believe me.

I rest my head against the wood of the door, inhaling deeply. I start my journey back up the stairs, when the tapping starts again.

It starts slowly and not so loud but it gradually gets louder and louder and more and more urgent. I shake my head to myself, telling myself not to open the door. He'll leave eventually. He has too. Right?

I sit on the bottom step, waiting for the knocking to stop but it doesn't. I jump off the step, heading for the kitchen. My hand grabs the handle of the fridge and tugs it open. I grab an egg and shut the fridge again.

Heading out of the kitchen, towards the front door again, I prepare myself. I swing the door open and take a slight step forward, smashing the egg on the boy in front of me. His mouth sits agape, the yolk of the egg seeping into his hair and trailing down the side of his face.

I grab the side of the door again, ready to shut it when Chris grabs my arms and pushes me against the wall, holding my arms by my side so I can't move.

My eyes widen and I giggle when I make eye contact with Chris.

"I'm sorry, I can't take you seriously with that egg all over you," I say, trying to keep the laughter to a minimum.

"You're the one who smashed the egg on me," he deadpans, clearly not amused.

I sigh and try to wriggle out of his grip.

"What's wrong? Why won't you talk to me?"

I just shake my head in response. The girls didn't believe me when I said Jess was up to something so why would I think Chris would? He'll probably say that I'm overreacting or I'm 'paranoid'.