eleven

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Alana entered the change rooms, pulling her long hair from its tight bun as she set her bag down on the bench in the middle of the room

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Alana entered the change rooms, pulling her long hair from its tight bun as she set her bag down on the bench in the middle of the room.

She undressed quickly and slipped into a pair of black leggings and sports crop equally fast. The teen slipped on a pair of socks and then her sneakers, checking herself over in the mirror when she was fully dressed. Her fingers worked quickly to secure her long brown hair in two tight braids.

Her slim fingers reached out and twisted the faucet, letting the cool water run for a second before splashing it over her sweaty skin. She wiped the excess water off with some paper towel and applied some light makeup (a little concealer under her eyes, a light layer of lip balm and a few coats of mascara) before swinging her bag over her shoulder and exiting the change rooms.

"So that French chick is pretty hot," Alana heard one of the guys from her class say to his friends as she headed towards the exit.

"You're not wrong," agreed another. "Hey, Kyle, have you tapped that yet?"

"Not yet, but I've still got a week, right?" Kyle spoke as she stepped over the threshold and locked her bright blue eyes with his. "Alana, I – it's not what you think."

Alana didn't want to believe the words he and his friends had spoken, but frankly, a part of her had been expecting it the whole time.

"Really? So you don't have a bet with your friends about how long it would take to sleep with me?" She rolled her big eyes and let out a dry laugh. "I should've known better; I should have listened to my father."

"Yeah, it's true," he nodded, refusing to make eye contact with her. "But that was before I found out how cool you were."

"Right, yeah, of course. I guess I forgive you then," the brunette shrugged, adjusting the strap on her shoulder.

"Really?"

"No, go screw yourself, asshole!" Alana spat before turning on her Nike clad heel and storming off.

Too upset to take notice of her surroundings properly, Alana didn't notice her father's black Porsche parked on the other side of the street waiting to pick her up. In that moment, all she wanted to do was clear her head. She kept repeating the same question over and over again in her mind:

How could she have been so stupid?

The tears had begun to flow pretty soon into her walk home, making it a little harder to see but still manageable. The more she thought about the betrayal, the more she cried. Eventually the tears stopped coming, almost as if she had run out.

Alana had been so lost in her thoughts that she didn't even notice her father following her from a distance in his expensive car, all the way home.

It broke Elijah's heart to see his daughter cry like that, and we wanted so desperately to just pull over and comfort her.

But he knew she needed some space, so he stayed away a little longer.

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