𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐏 | 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐲

24. Talk to me

Jack

There's no way. Or is there a way? Either way, why does it matter when it changes nothing? But what if it changes everything...

I sighed, shaking away my thoughts. Is there really a possibility that Zach didn't write the letter? No, why should I believe that? I saw him with my own eyes. I know he did it.

Then why is this all so confusing? Maybe there's a way I can know. Maybe I should ask him myself... but would he tell me the truth? I'll make him.

I sighed, slamming my locker shut. Once it was closed a saw a sticky note stuck to it. I squinted, taking it off and reading it.

Timetable:
English
History
Basketball practise
Biology
Art
Spanish
Sincerely, Corbyn Besson

I snorted, shaking my head. He took way too good care of me. But his name only brought my mind back to his words and the problem they had caused within me. "He didn't write the letter."

I checked the clock on the wall, looking at the time. Shoot, Spanish. Or not shoot? It's the perfect time to talk to Zach.

I walked down the hall with urgency, trying to make it to my Spanish class in good time. Wasn't very hard since most people parted like the Red Sea when I walked down the hallways, except for one brown eyed girl who approached me timidly, stopping me in my tracks.

"Uh, Jack..." she began, twirling a brunette strand around her hair. I raised an eyebrow at her, causing her to look away nervously. "I've been texting you and DM'ing you on Instagram but you haven't been replying, u was just wondering if-"

"I haven't got a phone" I lied, trying to step past her. "Oh, but I-" she began again. "Look, I've gotta go, alright?" I huffed, stepping around her and proceeding on to class. I got there a minute late, but it was all good.

Of course the two inseparable bestie boos were sitting next together, but that wasn't about to stop me. I rolled my eyes, walking up to the two. They were too deep into a conversation to even notice I was there, which I didn't like at all.

"Move" I commanded, drawing their attention to me. Daniel raised his eyebrows, shaking his head as a sarcastic laugh fell from his lips. "Oh hell no! That's not happening bitch boy" he spat out, folding his arms over and leaning back in his seat.

I clenched my jaw in anger, not expecting someone like him having the nerve to stand up to me. "You know I could break you with a single punch, right? Now I suggest you move before we test that theory." I threatened, feeling anger rise into my body.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down a bit. "Listen, I need to talk to Zach" I finally admitted. Daniel shrugged his shoulders indifferently. "Ok and? Doesn't sound like my problem, sweetie. Actually, you know what? It sounds exactly like my problem" he deadpanned, glaring daggers at me.

"And why's that David?" I seethed, resting my hands on his desk and getting all up in my face. Daniel pretended to throw up. "First of all, it's Daniel and you know that. Second of all, get outta my face I don't need to see all your disgusting clogged pores, what do you wash with, five in one deodorant, shampoo conditioner toothpaste?" He mocked, scooting his chair backwards to get away from me.

"It's my problem because every time you try and have talk with Zach he comes back emotionally scarred. I don't care what else you have to say to him, you can take your words and throw them in the trash along with all your opinions. After all, it's where they belong" he insulted, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

I felt my jaw clench so hard I was sure I was gonna break it. I rolled my eyes. Turning around. "Whatever, it's not worth it" I mumbled. As I was about to leave, the teacher stumbled in.

"Sorry I'm late class, did anything happen?" He questioned with a smile. The whole class sat still, nervously shaking their heads no. I grunted, shoving past him and leaving. "Jeez, what's wrong with him?" I heard the teacher ask as he closed the door behind him.

It's not worth it. He's not worth it. I guess I'm never going to be able to speak to him, and I'll never find out the truth. God, why can't I just know if it was him or not?