SOMETHING CALLED FATE

soemthing called fate: chapter two

I tried desperately to go unnoticed as I stepped into the warm classroom I've stepped into far too many times. Unfortunately, I fail as I open the door to see the fifty three students of Mr. Matthews' history class sit up and stare at me.

I place my books down on the desk at the very back of the classroom. I settle in and pull my hair back into a ponytail.

The words on the board just seem like a big jumble of letters. I can't seem to focus. Every mark on the board looks just like the next. I'm dazed and confused until I step out of the classroom one hour later to see the boy with the green eyes staring straight at me.

The red flannel he's wearing over his top distracts me from looking into his eyes. I'm afraid of what I might find. I'm afraid he may not be the same person he was when I first looked into those eyes. But as I glance up, I'm proven wrong. The green in his eyes sparkles and I'm left with a smile nobody could take away from me.

I step one step closer and finally he steps forward, but never breaking eye contact. He reaches his hand out and in his voice I hear a slight British accent.

"Hi. I'm Harry. Harry Styles. I believe we've, um, met before?" He grins and begins to giggle. His smile is infectious, I can tell you that much.

As I take his hand in mine and give it a shake, I reply quietly.

"Chloe." I pause, realizing I'm making absolutely no sense. "My name is Chloe."

"Well, Chloe. It's lovely to meet you. I'll see you around?" His accent makes my heart flutter and my mind race, but I keep this to myself. I nod and step back as I break eye contact and watch him disappear into the frosty air.

With his voice gone, and his sparkly eyes only a memory, I feel empty again. I feel distant from this planet spinning in circles. I'm weak. I'm lost.

So, as I leave the building nearly three hours later, I run. I can't tell you exactly why, but I did. With my bag on my shoulder, and my hair tied up, I run. Past the school. Past the buildings and the windows and every crack on the sidewalk until I stand there.

Underneath the dusty blue sky and the broken bridge, I take a seat. This is where I always came. Ten years ago that is. Every day. When Mom and Michael were fighting, or when Daddy hit me. This is where I went. I was never one for tears or fights or screams. I just ran.

And now, as nothing more than a girl with a broken mind and a skeleton eighteen years old, I'm here again. I rest my feet in front of me and close my eyes until I hear a familiar voice behind me.

"Chloe?" I turn around and see that smile. Those eyes. That beautiful boy with the beautiful mind.

As I stand up and turn towards him, and he walks up to me and grabs my hand.

"You're freezing." He takes off his black coat and pulls it over my shoulders as I shiver and feel the tears in my eyes well up. "Chloe, are you okay?"

I cannot let words escape my mouth or I know I will break, so I keep them to myself and just hold on to this moment in time. His eyes looking straight into mine. His hand placed in mine. His scent filling my mind as his jacket is wrapped around my shoulders.

Obviously, he can tell something's desperately wrong as he wraps me in his arms and looks into my eyes. "Do you wanna talk?"

Right then, right there, that was all I needed. All I needed was to know somebody was there. Somebody cared. I cannot reply to his question, because I can't find the answer. Deep in my mind there's this answer for this question, but a long with an answer comes truth, and a long with truth comes heartbreak. And I can't afford a broken heart. So, for the second time today, I run. But this time, I'm not alone.

Because this time, he's running right behind me.