Chapter 9


I had never felt so empty.

I was surrounded by all of my favourite things, watching TV with a tub of ice cream on my lap, yet I still couldn't piece everything together to make me feel whole again.

It had been four whole weeks since the incident on the beach. It had been a painful month, a hell-hole, every single burning emotion that I'd ever feel was packed in those four weeks. I was forbidden to see Chase, Bree, Adam and even Leo ever again. Even little geeky Leo Dooley!

I remembered how broken Chase looked, and couldn't help but think, I did that. The numerous amount of tears that streamed down his face made me feel so stupid and horrible. If that was any normal scenario, I'd jump into his arms and told him that it was all a joke; that he meant everything to me. He did, he truly did.

But I couldn't do that. If I did, every single Davenport would be put into danger; Even Tasha, sweet, motherly Tasha Davenport would be placed in a terryfying situation that no bionic can avoid. No, I couldn't do that to them.

I remembered falling asleep in a bloody mess on the floor, spine cracked, leg twisted abnormally. There was so much pain that nothing felt real anymore.

My father glared at me through evil, misunderstood eyes, the heat of his body radiating onto mine and the stench of cheap alcohol wafting through my nostrils. "If you disobey my orders, I will personally get my men to storm over to Chase's house and rip him limb from limb. And the best part is," he chuckled menacingly. "You get to watch."

So that was that. He really did have his "men" watch over me at school, one of them being Trent's dad, Michael. I felt so disgusted, having them watch my every move. Whenever I got partnered up with Chase for any subject, Trent or one of his football cronies would object and get the teacher to swap or change partners.

To top it all off, my father insisted that I acted happy. Keyword; act. He'd inspect my make-up when I left the house, making sure that my mascara was waterproof in case I shed a single tear. Trent would follow me all day, but he surprisngly never acted like a jerk. He'd be quiet, sometimes he'd carry my books and walk me to class like a gentleman. I didn't know what he was doing that for, but I sure as hell wasn't going to find out.

I talked less and less as the days went by. Barbara, being a therapist and all, declared that I was slowly developing a phobia called Glossophobia. It meant that I had a fear of public speaking, that if I tried to talk, no words would come out. It was almost as if I had lost my voice.

I lost many things. Chase, my voice, my freedom, my life. My emotions. I was back to square one; trying to fight against myself.

My phone would beep every five minutes, and there were only three people I had given my number to. "Dad" didn't know about my phone, yet I never texted the Davenports' back. I didn't want to risk it. If any one of them got hurt because of me, I wouldn't be able to live with myself.

The next day, I went through my morning routine as usual. Trent was waiting outside, and together we made our way to school. Thankfully, there was no communication between us, but the silence wasn't all that comforting either.

"Smile, alright?" Trent said, making me stand straighter. I nodded, looking away. He sighed in approval and pulled me towards our next class, Music.

I didn't mind music. I loved the melodies I'd hear whenever I stepped foot into the classroom. Miss Hayley was the type of teacher who wore neon clothes and spotted jackets, but nobody seemed to mind her. Her happy, carefree attitude distracted others from her crazy fashion sense.

"Alright, class," she chirped, her voice going from normal to extremely high. Trent looked my way and mimicked her, his eyes narrowing. I gave him a small smile in return. "Today we will be learning about Taylor Swift's song, Love Story."

I wanted to bash my head against the table. I wanted to run out, my head held high, but that was an impossible task to do. It didn't help that Chase was in my class, looking at me with careful eyes from across the room.

I knew what Love Story was about. It was a Romeo And Juliet type of song, and that's exactly what I was afraid of. When I was a little girl, I dreamt endlessly about handsome princes fighting with someone else to win me back. But now that I'm actually living it, it's a dreaded nightmare that I want so badly to escape.

"Now," she started, eyeing up the class with intense eyes. "I will put you into partners. You are required to take a seat and write down what you think of the song. Search it up on Google if you need to."

Oh, good. Trent will ask Miss if he can swap with Chase and she'll say yes. I hope. No, I know he will; It's Trent, after all.

But shortly after, I was proven wrong. So very wrong.

"Candice, your partner is Chase."

Trent cleared his throat. "Excuse me, miss, but can I be Candice's partner instead?"

Miss Hayley glared at him. "Sorry, Trent. But this is worth fifty per-cent of your grade and I will not have you distracting Candice." It was true. Trent and I were known for not doing any work in most subjects, but no teacher has ever noticed. Well, except for Miss Hayley.

"But -"

"No buts," she snapped, and handed the lyrics sheet to me. I gave her a greatful smile and walked off to sit at one of the tables.

Chase, instead of sitting opposite, sat right next to me. His hand found his way to mine and before I knew it, we were holding hands like nothings happened.

I sighed, and pulled my hand away from his grasp. I stared gravely at the boring posters of muscisians, trying to ignore his pleading eyes.

He furrowed his eyebrows. "We need to talk, Candice. I won't give up until you tell me why you wanted us to break up. Please? I just want to know."


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