You Are So Not a Fallen Angel

Chapter 25

Chapter 25

“And here we go, home sweet home.”

I blinked to clear my vision and looked around. We were standing on the road to the station, the same spot we’d left from. I glanced at the window of the houses lining the street, wondering if anyone had seen us. Since there weren’t any screams or exclamations, I guessed not.

“Thank you, Lorris,” I said, stepping away from him. “And thanks for the trip to Paris, even if it didn’t go as expected.”

He put a hand on my arm. “Can’t we at least talk about this?”

I shook my head. “There isn’t much to say. Us being together, it’s not working. It’s not good for either of us.” I frowned. Where was all this coming from?

“Just think about it. Please?”

“I’ll think about it,” I said. He grinned.

“I’ll come by tomorrow sometime. If that’s alright with you, of course.”

I smiled weakly. At least he’d leant something from this weekend.

“That’s fine.”

He gave me a peck on the cheek and strolled off, hands in his pockets. Just before he turned the corner, he glances on his shoulder and waved.

A heavy feeling in my stomach, I turned homewards. And almost jumped out of my skin when I saw Ivan standing just behind me.

“You scared me,” I said, since a situation is always improved by stating the obvious. Ivan didn’t apologize, just scowled.

“How are things?” I asked to break the silence.

“Who was that guy?” he demanded. I was taken aback by the vehemence of his tone. It was like I’d committed a grave sin.

“He’s a friend,” I said.

Ivan snorted. “A friend, is he? Where do you know him from?”

I crossed my arms. “What’s it to you?”

Ivan laughed hollowly. He looked a little ragged, pale with blue smudges under his eyes. The overall impression was not helped by the ugly expression twisting his features.

“What’s his name? This friend of yours, what’s he called?” He sneered at me, like he had me on the spot.

“He’s called mind-your-own-business-Ivan.” My lip curled. “What is wrong with you?”

I turned to walk away, and he grabbed my arm. I didn’t even stop to think. I swung my handbag around, aiming at his head. It struck him on the shoulder and he staggered back, and I took the opportunity to kick him on the shin. He howled in pain.

“Don’t ever touch me again, you jerk,” I said, before turning on my heel and marching off. What was it with these men at the moment? Was it the full moon or something?

“You’re back early,” Mum said as I stomped up the stairs. “Is everything alright?”

I took a deep breath. “It’s fine. Sharon wasn’t feeling well, so I decided to leave her in peace.”

It was a weak excuse, but my mother bought it. She trusted me, which made me feel even worse about deceiving her. But I had done the deed, so dwelling on it wasn’t going to do much good.

I dumped my bag on the floor and flopped onto my bed, prepared to spend the rest of the day in misery, turning events over and over and wondering if I had done the right thing. Surely, my feeling for Lorris warranted at least one hour of heavy thinking. The situation leant itself to so many questions. Had I done the right thing? Had I over-reacting? Was I being over dramatic?