Unbearable (Unexpected Sequel)|✔️

45- I'm Sorry

The white numbers on my car's dashboard informed me I had fifteen minutes to relax before I had to trudge back into the depths of hell – AKA school.

Exhaling loudly, I turned up the volume of my music and leaned back.

Seconds later, my passenger side door opened. I could smell the cologne before I opened my eyes, and it was a pretty strong indicator of who was intruding on my time.

"You're having your vibe time! That's a good sign things are getting back to normal," Dylan said as he settled in the seat, closing the door. He shifted a little and I heard the sound of my bag being placed in the back seat.

I didn't bother opening my eyes. "You remember the rules." The rules I was referring to were mainly no talking and no touching the volume knob. If I wanted to talk, I wouldn't keep the music up so loud. It was my version of 'me time' and I didn't want anyone to bother me. They were free to join but only Dylan usually did because he was the only one who followed the rules.

The smart boy knew to keep his mouth shut instead of replying. He grumbled something under his breath but I couldn't make it out over Still Woozy playing through the speakers. Man I loved that singer.

Time flew by quickly. Five minutes before the first bell was going to ring, Dylan poked me in the cheek. I swatted his hand away and sighed before cutting the engine. He met me outside the car, holding my bag and his.

We made our way to my locker. I wasn't really sure if Dylan ever used his considering I never saw him there. He leaned against the lockers, making flirty eyes with girls while I exchanged my stuff.

A small piece of paper flew out of my locker and onto the floor. Furrowing my brow, I picked it up. When I went to stand up again, the bottom of the locker door met straight with the top of my head. "Fuck!" I winced.

Dylan pulled away from his silent flirting and looked at me with concern. "Jeez, Bellz. What happened?"

I rubbed the sore spot and felt relief when it wasn't bleeding. It still hurt like a bitch though. "I was bending down and I didn't see the door."

He held my head and inspected the top, his height giving him a good advantage. He then attempted to rub it to subside the pain. "You have to be careful next time."

"Okay, mom," I snorted, earning a not-so-nice look from him. I managed to pry his hands off my head. It felt good but I couldn't stand here all day. "I'm okay, don't worry."

"Are you sure you don't wanna go to the nurse?"

Since when had Dylan been such a worrywart? I laughed and shook my head. "Relax, I'm not concussed or anything." His stern look didn't fade so I added, "If I feel weird, I promise I'll go to the nurse."

He hesitantly nodded and moved away so I could finish exchanging my stuff. Then we linked arms and walked to English, him still carrying my bag. He kept nervously glancing at my head, which made me roll my eyes. So dramatic.

It wasn't until my teacher was droning away about Pride and Prejudice did I remember the cause of my now pounding head. Not gonna lie, it was hurting like hell. Not enough to be concerned, but enough to make me feel like taking a nap.

I unwrinkled the small paper. It was about the size of a gum wrapper. In it were scribbled two words:

'I'm sorry.'

My brows furrowed. There was no sign of knowing who wrote this. Was this a mistake? Knowing me, probably not. Everything usually happened for a reason. Besides, I could think of a million people who would've apologized to me.