Some Things You Can't Control

22: Two Little Words

Chapter 22

Two Little Words

- EDEN GARCIA -

The moment the teacher begins explaining the first question in maths class, I particularly regret not actually studying with Dylan in the cafe yesterday afternoon.

The content on the whiteboard once again succeeds in going over my head. Maths is the one subject I cannot master, and I swear to god I try to.

I think it's needless to say that the only thing I get out of maths class that lesson is a killer headache.

What's new.

Walking out at the end of the lesson, every noise in the crowded corridor feels excessively amplified. Voices ring out, lockers bang closed, feet thud against the ground.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

I groan at the persistence of the headache as I reach my locker, carelessly spinning the combination and exchanging my books. Someone screams in laughter, and at that point, I'm on the verge of becoming murderous.

My steps slow as I realise I'm now headed towards the cafeteria; the busiest, loudest place in the school come lunch time. This makes me frown, but I don't divert my course, needing to buy food anyway.

Unfortunately.

Our usual table is entirely empty when I push through the double doors, and it's only then that I remember Mickie informing me last night that she and Em would be on a history excursion today.

And obviously, the guys are still away.

Not only did I feel terrible, but I would be spending this lunch time alone.

Fuck my life right now, honestly.

Nobody pays me much attention (thankfully) as I stand in the lunch line, silently praying the painkillers I took earlier will kick in sometime soon. After what feels like three hours- which, in reality, was only about five minutes- I pay for my pie and orange juice and weave my way over to my usual table.

It's never felt so intimidating, or desolate.

Well. This should be fun.

Maybe it was a good thing, though that no one was here. It'd give me the space to think.

With the consumption of food, I find my headache slowly easing away. That small relief in itself is enough to lift my mood just a little.

Strangely, I find it somewhat liberating to be seated alone for once. There's no need to uphold conversation, no demand for attention. I'm able to focus solely on myself as I go about eating my lunch in peace.

But it doesn't last.

Of course.

A chair is pulled out opposite me, and I look up ready to berate the intruder.

Yet when I meet the familiar pair of emerald green eyes, my frown morphs into a smile.

"Dylan, hey."

"Hey, Princess."

The name he'd always used to call me. I don't really know what to say to that, so I don't say anything. Instead, I just watch as he slides uncomfortably down into the seat, picks up his lunch, and begins to eat.

Like it was the most normal thing to do in the world.

That's when I realise he doesn't have plans to leave anytime soon. And for some reason that doesn't bother me. I find myself not wanting him to go, anyway.