The Bad Boy and the British Girl

The Boy Who Follows Me

Authors Note: Above is a picture, that will make sense further along in the chapter! This is a much longer one so I hope you enjoy! Don't forget to vote and comment!

Elizabeth Baker's POV:

Today at school has been interesting, I've had hundreds of people flood to me asking what happened last night. I just waved them off seeing as they are all people I don't know. It's so strange that as soon as something happens that everyone knows about, everyone either wants to be your best friend or arch nemesis, I guess that's teenagers for you. Unsurprisingly I'm used to the attention, seeing as this isn't the first time this has happened, last time I had every guy avoiding (thank god) and every girl stalking me, it's not very different this time either. I'm so glad it's the end of school now, so I can get away from every single junior and senior running at me asking me for answers, Charlie knows what I usually do with my Friday evenings so she just nods at me as we turn in different directions. I have my rucksack slung over one shoulder, my denim jacket is wrapped cosily around my Walking Dead t-shirt and my converse are snug around my ripped black jeans. I hop over the fence that's down the road from the school and start walking to the woods, I told Zach that I'd be at the park in case he had any ideas of following me, I know exactly what that boys about. I'm not drooling over him as soon as I've seen him so he's attempting to make me change my mind, as soon as I do he will throw me away like a piece of rubbish. I've figured out that if you just ignore their efforts they eventually get bored of the lack of reaction so eventually will leave you alone. Worked out for me so far.

I'm trudging through the stone cold grassy land, I look up to see the looming woods before me. I know this path like the back of my hand, so I slip my headphones in and blast Seven Nation Army through them, I leap over the collapsed oak tree and duck under the dying branch of the willow. I finally reach my destination and begin to climb, I adjust my rucksack so it's tight on both shoulders and I place my hands in the usual holders and hoist myself upwards. My footing is second nature and I climb all the way up to the top of the tree where the wooden planks are screwed and nailed in as tightly as humanly possible, there's a small railing around the edges, but that's been ruined by birds who peck and steal from it. The wooden floor surrounds the entire trunk of the tree and has about five layers of planks, it sits around 30 feet off the ground and the tree goes upwards for another 10. The branches cover the platform up pretty well, so I'm thankfully secluded up here, but they break open just in place to watch the sunset in the evening. I have a sheet of tarpaulin covering the floor, my pile of books,  my notebooks and my carving knife. It's more of a pen knife really, I bought it in Spain when I was 13, I carve drawings into the floor and tree trunk every time I'm here; as well as a tally mark of every visit.

I stretch the tarpaulin up and over the branches above my head, insecure it with thin rope and sit down in my usual spot. Back against the trunk, books to the left and knife to the right, sunset directly in front of me. I have my leg swung over the side of the platforms and my other knee up against my chest, I'm focusing on the sunset before my and I'm rubbing my thumb over the bruises on my knuckles. I trace patterns around them as the sky slowly turns orange around me, my phone is playing gentle music through my headphones and I couldn't be happier. Until a familiar voice calls from below.

"This doesn't look like the park kitten!" I hear Zach cry from below me.

"Oh my god this isn't happening?!" I scream upwards to the sky. Not even Charlie knows where this is, she just knows I go off on my own on Fridays! She doesn't know where...

"I'm afraid so, you can run, but you can't hide!" He shouts up at me. I slam my head against the trunk behind me, praying it might knock me out. Nope, no good.

"I'm wasn't aware that you were such a stalker Graye!" I yell, dryly.

"I like to call it following with a hint of caring!" I can't even look at him, I just know he's smirking.