His Blue ✓

3| Breach of privacy

I wake Tuesday morning with the slightest of ease. I rub my eyes immediately after they open, and scan my bedroom.

Once again, it is getting out of control.

I stand up and make my way to the bathroom where I can take a shower for the morning. It always feels good to be fresh and clean before starting the day (in my opinion).

After I'm showered, I put on some black skinny jeans, a panic! at the disco T-shirt, and slip into my adidas tennis shoes. I run down stairs as quickly as possible and am surprised that Bryn beat me.

"Someone's a slowpoke today." Bryn observes while laughing at me.

I frown. "Shut it."

My mom suddenly appears in the kitchen doorway, and Bryn and I smile.

"You girls ready?"

And the daily process of me running out to get shotgun repeats.

Finally I make it to school, grab breakfast and walk to first period. Before long, I'm surrounded by Anson and his friends.

I ignore them all and focus on my composition book. I hear Bryce whisper something about me being goodie-goodie, and I blush to myself.

Why can't he pick on someone else?

"Hey!" He says loudly, causing me to forget and look up at him.

I frown as he narrows his eyes. "Whatcha writing?" His voice is intimidating, but I gently close my book and try to act calm.

"Just some stuff for a class." I lie.

"Since you're the star student," he smirks at Anson while he speaks, "Why don't you give us a little sample?"

I shake my head. That's out of the question.

My palms grow clammy when Bryce frowns and starts complaining to everyone around. "Aw come on? Don't be shy." He reaches his hand out expectantly. "Hand over the precious diary."

"It's not a diary." I huff, protectively shielding my book.

Bryce pouts dramatically and jabs Anson in the side. Anson mimics Bryce and lets his ocean blue eyes scour over me. "Come on, Hoodie head." Bryce's voice pretends to beg.

You're not getting my book, if I have to die defending it!

First bell suddenly rings, and I try to hold my ground.

When Ms. Graves walks in, I sigh in relief, thinking I'm saved. However, she takes no notice of Bryce's shenanigans.

When I look away from her and back to Bryce's seat, he's smirking profusely.

"What?" I say. I notice Anson has disappeared.

Why does it feel like I'm going to be ambushed?

Suddenly, my book slides from its resting spot under my arm, and into Anson's hands behind me.

"Give it back!" I immediately snap.

His smile grows wide and arrogant as he jumps over to Bryce. They highfive and I feel my stomach erupt into a nauseous feeling.

"Give it!" I demand seriously. Anson's proud glare settles on my face and he refuses to hand it back.

If they read it, they'll have my personal thoughts!

"Let's see what you've got in here."

Anson flips through to a random page and begins reading in a shrill voice. " actors kiss each other for like 10 seasons and don't fall in love, but when someone holds the door open for me I think about it for five months. #hopelesslyalone" He laughs loudly and I feel my cheeks flush.

"You seriously wrote that?" He says in disbelief. He clutches at his stomach in laughter.

That entry was one of the first ones I wrote it when I was 15. Give me a break.

This is ridiculous. I'm getting my book back.

I watch his movements casually, before finding the prefect time to act.

Desperately, I try to swipe my book from his grasp, but he calculates my movements before I make them, and he expertly catches my wrist in his hand.

     "Are you trying to hold my hand?" He bites his lip and my arm feels electric sparks radiating at his touch.

     "No!"

He smirks as I jerk away from his grip.

     "Give me my book. Please!" I plead.

     "Let me think about that."

Bryce laughs loudly. "Let me read one, Anson."

Are you kidding?!

I look to Ms Graves, who pays no mind.

As Anson hands the book to Bryce, I feel embarrassment wash over me. Bryce turns to the middle of my book, and clears his throat.

"I need a break from the loneliness that is totally consuming me. When sadness that hasn't dared to strike suddenly hits, like a bullet at 2 am, I realize that I have no one. I cry with my hand over my mouth, so I don't make any noise. The tears run down to my pillow and my heart breaks until there is nothing left to break off. Nobody understands. Nobody sees how broken I truly am."

My eyes are trained on the ground, a lump is gathered in my throat.

There they are.

Anson doesn't hesitate to rip my precious book from Bryce's hand. He hands it back to me with widened eyes.

"Indie, we didn't mean-" he begins.

I snatch the book from his hands and clench my jaw. "Whatever. I wouldn't expect you two pricks to understand what I wrote anyways." I swallow the lump in my throat and turn away from my tormentors.

They may not know, but they had just reopened a wound I had tried to heal my junior year. The year my father walked out of my life. The year I felt so hopelessly alone.

I patched that wound then, and I intend for it to stay that way.