Pieces [Wattpad's Editor's Choice]

29: sHoUlDeR tO cRy On

Monday morning, I woke up puking.

Last time I ever make homemade ice cream and let Luna handle the alcohol.

I'd bet only a small part of that was due to my hangover; today there was a good chance I'd have to see Arrow in class. Would he even sit by me?

The whole walk to class was miserable. My stomach churned, my heart hammered, I couldn't breathe. It was like walking up to your trial knowing you'd be found guilty even though you weren't.

Yesterday I'd been a hell of a lot bolder; I could hide from my normal every day routine. Today? I wore a giant flashing sign above my head that read ι'νє вєєη яєנє¢тє∂ тωι¢є ησω, #ℓσνєнαтєѕмє.

"You sure you don't wanna skip class? We could go get coffee again." Luna watched me as we walked, arms crossed over her.

"I'm good." So not.

I wondered if Luna was embarrassed to walk beside me. While she took the time to blow dry her hair, throw on a choker, apply dark eyeshadow and faded pink lip gloss, I just put dry shampoo in my hair and left it tangled in every possible direction. The Rapunzel braid fell out during the night, my eyes were bloodshot and I still had a little bit of smudged mascara beneath my eyes from yesterday. Luna casually walked in combat boots, a leather skirt, and long-sleeved black mesh top, while I threw on an old beige hoodie, black leggings, and some dirty white converse. While it sounds comfortable, it was so not. I felt gross and needed a shower. Why was I so bad about remembering those these days?

But my panic was all for not because the moment Luna and I arrived to class (not the first ones there this time), Arrow wasn't anywhere in sight.

"Huh." Luna narrowed her eyes. "You'd think human behavior would be more interesting to someone who can't interpret any of it."

Class progressed without a single sign of Arrow.

Luna wished me a good day and I prayed I wouldn't die more than five times.

And then came Chemistry. God, I hated that class. I now had one too many negative emotions tied to this devilish subject: Phil and his drugs, my lack of metaphoric chemistry...

Ethan Suede.

I sat on the end seat so I only needed to block off the seat on my right, but it sure as hell didn't stop him from approaching me.

"So where's your friend?"

Don't look over, don't look over. I scribbled in my notebook. "Sick."

"Really? I thought I saw him in my English class."

English? For what, more hopeless romances?

Don't look over, it's bait. "Probably the wrong guy."

"Frannie, can you look at me please?"

What the hell? Was he...pleading? Heck yeah, he deserved to miss my green eyes. Well guess what Ethan Suede? They weren't yours to look at these days!

"Stop talking to me, you're adding to the negative energy I'm feeling today."

"Okay, well sorry. I just want to talk to you. I think there was a misunderstanding between-"

"Ethan, I don't wanna hear it." And I looked at him. Unfortunately, I wasn't Medusa.

He stood less than a foot away, one foot on the step down from him, our Stats book cradled in his arms. Nothing changed besides the fake glasses: today, he didn't wear them, and his eyes looked more...brown. As usual, he gelled his hair back and wore a maroon t-shirt and ripped jeans.