Window

15.

Dean had been right. He'd been making things better, one small act at a time. A month had gone by, and things were getting better. Dean wasn't skipping classes, or failing tests. He wasn't staying out all night, and getting into stupid fights. He wasn't dissapearing without explanation, or lashing out at people for no reason. Things were better, for the most part. 

Emma had seen the change, and loved it. She loved having him in class, to exchange ideas with and to talk to. She loved having him talk to her as a friend, as someone he trusted. She loved having him show up at her window, morning, afternoon, and even night. It wasn't uncommon for him to come to her window five times a week. 

But as much as she loved seeing him, standing outside her room with his lopsided smile, she hated what came with it. She hated seeing the dark, purple bruises that blossomed on his skin. She hated seeing the scabs that covered his lips or dotted his cheekbones. And she hated that he wouldn't tell her where they came from. 

It tore her apart inside, knowing that he was hurt, and suffering through something that she couldn't help him with. Something he wouldn't let her help him with. 

There was an unspoken agreement between them now, that she wouldn't ask. She wouldn't ask why he was bleeding, or why tears misted his eyes. It made it easier for him that way, so that's what Emma would do. No matter how hard it was. 

So on they went, following their little routine of visits by the window. They were becoming closer than they would've ever imagined, closer than they could've expected. And people were starting to take notice. 

Charlotte stood against the lockers, gnawing nervously on her nails. Her blue eyes were quick, darting around the hallway as she scanned each student's face. Heart beginning to race anxiously, she prepared herself for what she was going to do; for what she had been planning to do for a week now. 

Her eyes landed on Dean's face, a scowl crossing her lips. A charming grin stretched across his face, his glimmering, emerald eyes casted upon Emma who walked next to him. Charlotte could tell that she was laughing at something that he'd said; she could see it in the dimples on her cheeks and the way her head was thrown back.  

It made Charlotte's stomach churn. It wasn't that she didn't want Emma to be happy, not at all. But that was her best friend. And she was getting close with a notorious heartbreaker with a nasty reputation. Charlotte had done her research, because she didn't take Emma's happiness lightly. Dean was a guy with serious dirt on him, and Charlotte had no intention of letting him con Emma into believing otherwise. 

Dean offered Emma a wave and a smile, her blonde head of hair dissapearing into a classroom. Charlotte narrowed in on him, knowing that this was her chance. A long, shaky breath escaped her as she collected all the courage that lingered inside her. And then she charged forwards. 

Long ponytail swishing side to side, Charlotte strode down the hall with a mission set in her step. Dean's eyebrows pulled together in confusion as he studied the girl racing towards him. Watching her come to a halting stop, Dean offered a questioning glance. "It's Charlotte, right?" Dean asked, knowing how often Emma talked about her. 

Caught off guard by how friendly he was, Charlotte took a moment to place her hands on her hips. "Yeah. And I know all about you, Dean" Charlotte threatened, a menacing glimmer in her navy eyes. 

"Okay?" Dean asked, unsure of why this was beginning to feel like an attack. As far as he was concerned, he had done nothing to her. He barely even knew her. 

Rolling her eyes, Charlotte shook her head. "I came here to talk to you. So listen up, alright?" Charlotte ordered, waiting until Dean offered a hesitant nod. "Great. See, Emma Waters is my best friend. Has been since preschool. And I realize that you two are getting pretty close."