Addicted z.m

Chapter 12

Spencer's POV

14 days.

Two whole damn weeks without him. No updates from Caleb; he said there hadn't been any calls or any sign of communication from him. I had the stupid idea to go to the apartment after school on Friday with a bag packed for the night. I didn't know why, but continuing on that short lived tradition helped me cope.

It gave me a little more hope that he might come back. He might even be there when I knock on the door.

"Spencer?" Caleb seemed confused to see me. "What's up?"

I lifted my bag slightly, gesturing to it. "You mind?"

He shrugged. "I never minded before." He stepped out of the way and let me in. I instinctively headed to Zayn's room and placed my stuff in the same spot.

I sat on the bed and sighed. This room was the only evidence that he had ever been here. I bet if anyone ever came asking, everyone would probably deny him ever living in the city; because they probably wouldn't even remember he existed if you waited long enough.

Slowly laying down on his side of the bed, I curled up into a ball and took in his scent. I closed my eyes and pictured him holding me in this spot, his tatted arms wrapped around my body as he hummed a melody in my ear.

I could feel the tear roll down my cheek and onto his pillow.

Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn't he have just made this easier on everyone and just explained? He would be here and I'd be with him, helping him every step of the way. But instead he left...with no explanation at all.

I fisted the comforter in anger. This was a moment I found myself blaming him. I found a reason to be mad, and I felt like staying mad would just be easier to cope. But I remembered I was in his bed, and all I could think about was how comforting he was to me. I felt guilty for being mad.

I released the fabric and let another couple tears fall.

"Spencer..." Caleb opened the door. I opened my eyes and he peaked into the room. "Are you hungry? I could order something, if you'd like."

"I-I'm fine...I don't want anything." I assured.

"Well if you change your mind, you know where to find me."

"Caleb?" I stopped him from closing the door. "Did you have plans tonight?"

"No," he shook his head, "I was just staying at home." I could tell he was lying.

"Caleb..."

He sighed. "Stella had a party tonight but I could skip. It's fine."

"Caleb, you can go. Don't ruin your partying routine for me. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'll just be in here all night. It'd be pointless of you to stay. I'll make a sandwich if I get hungry."

He gave me a quick sympathetic look. "Call me if you need anything. I mean it."

I nodded and he gently closed the door, leaving me alone in the room I had come up with so many fake excuses to come back into. I ended up not even using a single one of them. I just showed up to the door absent-mindedly. I never thought I'd need an excuse to come here, but this is technically no longer his room, though all his stuff was still here.

His stamp on this city was in this room, though. His scent, his art, the reminder of his voice. I liked to think I was in him. The room was him. Reserved and filled with hidden secrets, yet so intriguing, though not inviting.