Silent Cries H.S {AU}

Chapter 15

"I'm tired of waking up in my own skin. I'm tired of waking up at all."

                                                                                                        -Jen L.

I finally decided to man up and stop being such a pussy on Thursday. After days of moping around, I finally pulled on a black sweater, ripped black jeans, and combat boots and left the house with my bag on my shoulder and a tight hug from Alex.

The drive to school was probably the worst part. Filled with the anticipation of the hell I was returning to. I really didn’t want to go back, in fact I’d sell my soul in order to never have to enter the same room as Harry, but life hated me, so I was forced back into school with him.

I managed to avoid him almost all day, hiding in different classrooms, the library, or bathrooms at times I knew we’d be forced to meet. And thank god for the odd class scheduling, because English was last hour today. I loved how it switched around. But having it last hour was probably best.

So the day went by smoothly, when English did come, I sat in the very back by the annoying stuck up bitches and Harry was none the wiser, until the middle of class came and a sudden presentation was sprung on me.

“You will be reading off a poem of your choice today for class, so hopefully you have been reading up on some.” Mr. Jaxon said.

I felt Macy’s harsh gaze on the side of my face, but brushed it away. She had won, there wasn’t anything else she could do to me anymore. I was numb again, as it always should’ve been. “We’ll go in alphabetical order.” I grinned. That’s why it’s great to be a Zavadil.

The class went through, and many were stupid little rhymes from commercials or meaningless quotes from shitty movies. Maybe if they were meaningful I would care, but they weren’t, so they could fuck off. In fact, fucking Macy’s was a quote from Mean Girls. Like how much more cliche could the bitch get?

But suddenly, I heard a deep rough voice at the front of the room, and the words spoken ran through my mind as the poem appeared in front of my eyes.

“And what made me fall for you, was not your face, your hair, or your smell; it was the healing and the soothing that your voice was preciously holding, and the way I was not able to grasp it.” He read, and looked up. His eyes ran over the room before finally meeting mine. “James Andrew Crosby.” I murmured with him.

“Why did you choose that quote, Harry?” Jaxon asked.

Harry kept his gaze on me as he replied, his voice steady and firm. “I chose that poem because it’s true. And because the person I read this poem for, loves James Andrew Crosby’s poems. She even has one memorized.” I bit my lip and gulped as Mr. Jaxon smiled and allowed Harry to sit back down.

A few more kids went, then the time fell upon me, and I slowly stood from my seat, walking to the front of the classroom with no idea what my poem should be anymore. I stood at the front with my hair hanging in my eyes and looked around quickly before finding familiar emerald eyes and knew.

“If you were to ask this very soul about living, no answer shall be given; for it does not know if this is living; but solely understands: all this could be must be adequate.” I read out loud, my voice loud enough to be heard by any who cared to listen. “James Andrew Crosby.” there was a soft gasp through the room as I spoke the name, for the few who had paid attention and now knew that Harry had said that he was in love with me, something I knew to be a lie. Because you didn’t hurt the people you loved.

“Why did you choose that poem, Ms. Zavadil?” Jaxon asked softly, seeming to understand me better now that he heard my innermost thoughts.

“Because if you asked me about living, I wouldn’t know how to answer, because I’m not living. I’m just waiting for the end… And I love James Andrew Crosby.” I then walked back to my seat and picked up my bag, walking out of the classroom just before the bell toned.