This Is Us

Chapter 9

a/n:  DISCLAIIIMERRR

Chapter Nine

I hide under the covers to cry. Even if my room's lights are off the street lights are coming in through the window and it's not giving my room the darkness I want.

I become one with my bed and sheets. I don't know how long I've been crying but I guess enough that I could feel my throat dry.

I plan to stay like this for awhile until maybe Dad or Kitty comes home. I've shut off my phone as soon as I saw that Peter was trying to call.

Then there was a tap at my window.

I stay frozen refusing to move. I don't need to look to see who it is. It's obviously Peter.

What is he doing here? He is the last person I want to see or even talk to.

"Lara Jean?" He calls for me.

Maybe if I stay still he'll think I'm in my dad's room or something. Or if I keep ignoring him he's going to take the hint that he isn't welcome.

Which totally does the opposite because I heard my window creak open, and his struggles to get in through the window. I mentally curse myself for not locking it the other night.

I can hear footsteps towards the bed, then stopped. "Lara Jean, talk to me."

I squeeze the sheets under me between my fingers and I bite my lip. Even though I'm still upset at him, his presence is making feel a little better. I hate it... I'm not supposed to feel like this, not anymore.

"Please," his voice was low. There was urgency and sadness to it. But I don't want to give into it.

I could feel his power gaze at me despite hiding under the covers. I shivered, and not because I'm cold. "Go away, Peter." My voice cracked and it was obvious that I had been crying too much, and I'm not done yet. I want him to leave so I can cry everything out.

He groans in frustration. I could feel the battle he has with himself. He was either going to do what he wants or listen to me and he is having a hard time too. "I'm not leaving until you and I talk." He said firmly, he had made a decision. And I know that he won't leave.

The longer I try to deny him, the longer he stays there. If I want him to leave then I'll give him what he wants, we'll talk. I get up with out removing the covers from me, on any other day it would have been a funny movement as it looks like I'm a freaking zombie sitting up, the covers slide off of me. I sit at the side of my bed.

And then I lifted my chin to face him. I could see his pained expression when he saw me. I know what I look like, I look like crap. My eyes feel heavy, my nose is stuffy, i can feel my hair sticking up everywhere from being under the covers. I don't care.

But what I do find irritating is that he looks like I hurt him and not the other way around. He's standing there with his shoulders slumped, the light from the window at the side of his handsome sad face, I've actually never seen him this defeated before.

How dare he, make me feel worse. I turn away from him melting gaze, "Talk, so you can leave." I said coldly. I saw him grimace from how I treat him.

He clenched his fist and shoves his hands in his pockets. He takes a deep breathe and lightly tosses me his phone, it lands face first on my lap. He is getting messages after messages, from a group chat. It's his Lacrosse Team, for UVA.

I stare at it, dazed. I don't understand what he's showing me. I look up and stuttered, "What—?" But he doesn't let me finish.

"You didn't ask me if I had a girlfriend, Covey."