“Jake!” Abigail made to follow him, but Mr. Trenton, as if he already knew what she was going to do, was standing in the doorway, blocking her path.
“And where do you think you’re going, Ms. Scarlett?” Flecks of spit sprayed Abigail as he said her name. How attractive Abigail thought, wincing and wiping her face. She didn’t say anything in answer, but merely tried to push past him. He was prepared for this.
“This class doesn’t end for another seventeen and a half minutes, so you will remain in this class until that time, understand me?”
She wanted to scream at him to move, but she knew better than that and settled for a hard, defiant glare instead.
“Back to work, then.” Mr. Trenton replied, pointing a long, knobby finger in the direction of her empty seat. She could sense the smug tone he held and there was already an air of triumph about him.
Slowly, she turned around, and made to walk away, but something stopped her, froze her to the spot. Jake wouldn’t have given up that easily, even now, when he was mad at her, he would fight for her; so she would do the same for him.
“No. I won’t.” And she whirled quickly on her heel and shoved past her stricken teacher (he obviously had not been expecting retaliation), running down the hall, shouting for Jake, not caring if anyone heard her.
She looked up and down the deserted halls, hoping to get a glimpse of a shoe, or the hem of a shirt whipping around a corner, but there was nothing, no one. She stood still for a moment then, contemplating what to do. She had already ruled out going back to class, she didn’t feel like dealing with Mr. Trenton right now. She would just have to keep pressing on, she had to find Jake, they needed to talk about this. She almost smiled at this thought. Not long ago, hadn’t it been Jake who so desperately wanted find her? Now the roles were reversed.
Eventually, after a rather lot of aimless wanderings, Abigail settled on waiting for him by his locker. He would have to come back sometime, wouldn’t he? As she walked down the empty halls, her footsteps echoed throughout the school, breaking the careful silence. At this, she had a slight déjà vu moment, and memories of her first day came rushing back.
And suddenly, she found herself in front of his locker, except she was not alone there. She looked down and her eyes fell upon the huddled shape of a tall, thin boy with shaggy, dirty-blond hair, face hidden in his hands. Her heart thudded softly as she saw him, he was so vulnerable-looking, so innocent. Noiselessly, she slid to the ground next to him, and leaned against the locker. She waited then, just waited. And then, quietly, she reached over towards his open palm and gently took his hand in hers. Maybe it was instinct that made her do it, simply something to break the tension sparking between them as the uncomfortable silence pressed on, Abigail didn’t know, but it felt almost right.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered. “So sorry.”
It seemed like the silence would stretch on for eternity, and then:
“How could you?” And that was it, he didn’t even look up, just murmured the question just loud enough for he to hear. Although his voice was pained as he spoke, he didn’t let go her hand, and it comforted her a bit, made her feel a little less like such a jerk. Because that question had made her feel like the worst person in the world, and in a way, she was. He had trusted her for one thing, and she couldn’t deliver, after all he had done for her. She was disgusted with herself, at a loss for words even. And she told him so, she told him every single thought that was running through her head, the guilt and the regret she was feeling.
YOU ARE READING
(You are Never) ALONE
Jugendliteratur"Sometimes, when you're trying to find yourself, it takes more than just yourself to do it." It's a story about love, about hardships, about hope, but most of all about finding yourself especially when you never thought it was possible. Because ever...
