Midnight (editing)

16

The warning bell rang loudly, and a burst of students found themselves rushing down the hallway to get to class. Caleb sighed and took my bag, before yanking me to class, knowing that I would just stand there all day, if it meant that I wouldn't have to face him. 

"Zoe, you can do this, okay? I've already spoken to Karl. He says that we will have the same classes for as long as you're like this, even if it means we have to be together for the rest of the school year. We're also late, so come on!" He says seriously. 

"Fine." I say loudly, glaring at him. I snatch my arm away from his grip and walk off, heading to the history classroom. Caleb jogs behind me and catches up just as I open the door. 

"and this is when the Trojans-" Miss Henry stops abruptly and looks at the pair of us. 

"Why are you late, Miss. Midnight, Mr...?" she trails off. 

"-Henderson." Caleb supplies. 

"Ah. yes. Mr. Henderson. Amazing job in your last essay. Your philosophy and exploration of the implications on Greek culture after the Trojan war was exemplary. A must read for all the students of this class. Oh, but why are you late? I cannot tolerate this, even if you are a meritorious student."

"Miss Henry, Zoe and I were with Principal Ivanov. We,uh- had some things to discuss. We're extremely sorry ma'am." Caleb says sincerely, using his teachers' pet face to get us out of trouble.

After what seemed like a long pause, she says, "okay. take your seats. I will talk to Karl later and see if that is true." We scurried to our bench, only then realising that we would have to sit with him. 

Frowning, Caleb pushes me to the window and sits in the middle of the two of us, all the while glaring at him. I take Caleb's hand and hold it under the bench, drawing circles and hoping he calmed down. He had to take several deep breaths before he could even focus, even then asking me if I was alright. 

Of course I wasn't, but he can't know that. I would probably never be alright again, but no one should have to worry about me constantly. I silently reach out to my right, from behind Caleb's back and try to take my bag. 

Instead, I end up touching him and quickly pull my hand and try to look away. I was too late. He felt it, and looked at me. I felt jolts of hurt and the familiar bubbles of love welling up inside me. His green eyes seem different, and yet I knew them. I knew them and I didn't. I couldn't look away, nor could he, though I could feel my eyes start to water as I looked at them. He finally looked away and handed me my bag. I took it, taking care not to touch him and removed the bottle, gulping it slowly, relishing theburning in my throat, so I didn't have to think of him.