teacher ♤ s.t [rewriting]

35 ♤ Never Enough

35 ♤ Never Enough

a/n
reading all the chapters i wrote while driving is making me really sad, i miss florida and the georgia chik-fil-a
i might just publish two a day (m a y b e) so i can start writing new chapters
enjoy, xx

C O U R T N E Y ♤

Today was supposed to be the last day of driving. Only four hours left in this car before checking into the last hotel. We had taken a little longer on the trip than expected, so I texted Sarah to tell her that we were going to take an extra day.

After we checked into the hotel, the plan was to visit the nursing home for a couple hours before heading back to the hotel, where undoubtedly we were going to relentlessly cuddle with before falling asleep in our clothing again, tangled together like we were stuck with glue.

Sadly, the last part didn't quite happen.

"I don't understand why you didn't bring me with you," I grumbled, crossing my arms.

"He fought in the navy, Courtney, he had PTSD, anything could have happened-"

"Did anything? Did anything happen when you saw him?"

"Well, no-"

"Shayne-"

"But there was a chance, Courtney, a chance he could have freaked out. I didn't want to risk having you there!" Shayne interjected, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Why not? Do you think I'm fragile?" I protested, my eyes blazing.

He was silent, his gaze floating to to the floor.

"You could have asked. You could have at least told me."

"This- this argument- would have happened, Courtney, believe me."

"You left me in the hotel room because you told me you needed to get a bag from the car. And I believed you, because that's a stupid thing to lie about!" I stormed. "Then you drove off, you drove. Away! Can you imagine how I felt?"

He fell into the chair at the desk, hiding his face in his hands miserably.

"I thought you left me here to fare for myself. How would I explain this to anybody? I thought I could trust you, Shayne!"

"Please-"

"You know what, Shayne, you're just like him."

"Like who?" Shayne looked up, an unreadable expression on his face. It seemed to be interested in what I was saying, but also like he was about to have an outburst.

"N-never mind," I mumbled.

"Tell me, Courtney, who am I like?"

"No one, Shayne, you're like no one."

"I want to know."

"Like... like Dante," I muttered at the floor.

"One more time, Court, and not at the ground," he pressed patronizingly. I felt my face burn, and tears threaten to well up in my eyes, but I blinked them away.