Black Ink || Harlena a.u.

31.

I tried not to think about the earlier events as I cut the tomatoes, while Anne rambled on about some customer.

"- because I'm a virgin. Right, Selene?"

Startled, I blinked. "Yeah," I mumbled.

"Wrong," her head tilted as she threw me a pointed look. "You're not listening. Something has your face looking all-" she made a weird face. "Spacey."

My lips tugged in a smile, "I'm just thinking about what I'm making for breakfast tomorrow." Perhaps the shrug I gave her was too much.

"Right. Because deciding between wheat or marshmallows for our cereal is so damn complicated," she deadpanned.

Setting the knife down, I turned to the side to fully look at her. "I don't really wanna talk about it, Anne. I'm making something out of nothing."

She blew out in exaggeration before putting her hands up in mock surrender, "I'm only here when you need me."

I wanted to explain to her that it wasn't like that, but even opening my mouth seemed too much of a great effort, so I shrugged it off.

We didn't say anything else as we finished up cooking the chicken and tossing the salad. It was quiet as we ate, with the exception of the forks hitting the plate as we kindly stabbed the lettuce.

"I sped- walked in, or out, to Harry giving head to some blonde, behind the weedy field, in his car after I went out for a run," I finally mumbled out hastily. My chicken looked really interesting.

Anne stopped, but when I looked up at her, she was also looking at her plate. Her tongue was swiping the inside of her cheek, "Huh."

I nodded. "He saw me."

Anne only bit her lip. Then she laughed.

"Anne!" I exclaimed, horrified at the fact that she was laughing at such an embarrassing moment.

She wheezed, "Bitch said, 'sped walked in, or out-'"

I tried my hardest not to give in, but watching her face turn red as she shook in laughter, had me joining in. Despite how much it stung to think about it, laughing at the moment was like some sort of coping mechanism.

After the laughter bubbled down, she shook her head; small after laughs here and there until we were both quiet again.

Anne cleared her throat, drinking some juice before saying, "Don't worry. If he tries contacting you, you'll know he'll feel guilty. But-" she pointed a finger at me. "That'll only mean that he feels something too. Otherwise, why would he feel that way?"

I nodded, "Makes sense."

"Has he contacted you?"

The question made me furrow my eyebrows. I hadn't heard my phone ring at all. I reached down to find an empty pocket. I sat up, frantically groping myself for it.

Then I looked around the kitchen, Anne gave me a wild look, but didn't say anything. I checked my room, the bathroom, in between the cushions on the couch before a cold feeling washed over me, making my skin raise with goosebumps.

"Anne," I closed my eyes, being dangerously close to crying in frustration. "I dropped my phone somewhere between here and the field," I wailed out.

She stood up, "Are you sure? Let me dial your number." Her hands tapped on her phone before placing it on her ear.

We both froze, quietly waiting to hear something, but no ringtone came from anywhere.

She gasped.

"What?" I fretted.

"It's off."

My head hung, hands covering my face. "I had my headphones plugged in, I would have felt it!"

"Well, maybe it was the shock that just blocked everything out and didn't let you feel when it dropped."

My cheeks puffed out as I blew a breath, trying to remain calm.

"We could go look if you want?"

I nodded. The last thing I wanted to do was go back there, but I had all my contacts and messages on there. Not to mention, the pictures and personal apps.

Anne grabbed her jacket as I slipped mine on.

"Don't worry," she said. "We'll find it."

Her words were meant to encourage me, but I felt like they were nothing but false hope.

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My "Black Ink Playlist" is playing, so these chapters are just rolling in.