…he'll never see you cry…
Come Monday morning, I almost expect him to slide up next to my locker. I almost expect to see his half smirk as he asks about my weekend. I almost crave it, and I try not to be disappointed when it doesn't happen. I quickly gather my books and make my way to class.
On the way, a sight stops me. Edward is leaning against Gianna's locker. She's collecting her things and rolling her eyes at something he said. I swallow back the hurt. I don't want to be hurt, but I feel like a fool. I feel the eyes of a hundreds of students staring at me and drowning me with their pity.
What a fool to believe even for a moment that I was different. Every moment we shared feels tainted and generic. And wasn't it just that? Generic.
I was simply another heart to place in his jar, and another notch to line his belt. The thought makes me sick, and I hate that I gave that to him.
I hate that I was ever in his sights.
The hate builds into an anger that heats my skin and rushes down my body. It pushes me toward him and Gianna, catching the attention a few fickle minded sheep. I know their curious as to what I'm about to do, but I won't put on a show for them. I simply have something to say.
I catch his arm and pull him away. I see the shock on his face. He says a quick goodbye to the junior girl and follows me easily enough. I pull him into an empty classroom. I know I don't have long before a teacher will kick us out or students will trickle in. It doesn't matter; I only need a few seconds.
"Bella, what's—"
"Just don't talk okay," I say with an eerie calm, and I can see the panic in his eyes. He isn't used to confrontation, or maybe he isn't used to my type of confrontation. Maybe he expects me to cry and plead with him, but that is the last thing I plan for him to see.
So she's got some backbone. Wonder what she's planning on saying...
Guys, I really look forward to reading everything you have to say. It's sometimes the highlight of my day.
'til later today
-T