I glare at Harry and push him away, continuing my march upstairs. “Hey!” He jogs up the stairs next to me, studying my face from the looks of it. I can’t really see through my tears.
“Are you crying?” He asks, me shooting him another glare before quickening my pace. He follows closely as we reach the top, shoving passing freshmen and sophomores away in my heated fury.
I walk as fast as I can down the hall, trying not to make a scene, and see the restroom in the corner of the hallway.
I don’t care to turn around, I know he’s still following me. He could care less if he was late to class or something. He only cares about getting dirt on people and being rude. That’s it.
“Sweetheart!” He calls, but I ignore him, trudging on to the girls room. I hear his boots behind me as I walk into the bathroom, hoping that he doesn’t follow me in.
Normally, that would be a given that any guy wouldn’t come into the girls restroom, but I don’t know Harry that well.
A girl is in here, doing her hair in the mirror. As soon as she sees me, she widens her eyes and marches out, leaving me alone.
I go into the corner and cry into my jacket, letting out my built up emotions. I hear boots pad in, snapping my head up to see Harry standing above me.
“Get out!” I yell, hoping that someone will get the principle or something to help me. I am left disappointed as nobody comes before Harry heists me up and grabs my arm, dragging me out.
The bell rings right after we get outside the bathroom, signaling that we were officially late for first period. I don’t hide my anger as I groan out loud, making Harry chuckle. “What’s so damn funny?!” I yell, earning a scared look from a passing freshman or sophomore. Harry looks at the girl and winks, making her widen her eyes and snap her head around as she jogs quietly through the hall.
Harry turns to me and grips my forearm, dragging me further away from our first period. People are going to think that we’re shagging again, and we will get a tardy because of Mr. Walker’s warning from yesterday.
This day is perfect.
“Where are we going?!” I ask in confusion as Harry opens the door to one of our stairwells. He enters, me having no choice but to follow from the lingering grasp on my arm. “sit.” He orders, pointing to the window and the small ledge by it.
I comply, not fully understanding what’s going on, as Harry sits next to me. “What’s going on with you?” He asks, not making eye contact as he leans his elbows on his knees.
“What do you mean?” Surely Harry didn’t actually care about my problems, since all he cared about was a good laugh and himself. That’s it, he probably just wants to hear my problems so that he can look down on me…
“Um, Shayne?” I snap my head up to look Harry, looking at me confused. “What?” I ask, a slight snap to my tone. “I won’t think less of you. And believe it or not, I do care about other things than that.” He says, me furrowing my brow.
