Four
Three days have been and gone, all revolving around avoiding Harry; when I would go to sleep, which train I'd catch home, what pace I should walk at. None of what is swimming around in my head has interrupted my amazing opportunity, but the sleepless nights lying awake, thinking was starting to take its toll. I don't even know what I'm thinking about; it's all a jumbled mess. Like a charity shop. It'd take me hours just to sort through it for it then to be another puzzle the next morning.
My worry over my class mates finding out about my current accommodation was what most of my thoughts circulated around although nothing has been said, as of yet. Unsure whether this is a good or bad thing, the naïve little old me is rooting for something good, hopefully my prayers will be answered this time.
x-x-x
You said move on, where do I go?
I guess second best is all I will know
'Cause when I'm with him I am thinking of you
(Thinking of you, thinking of you)
Thinking of you, what you would do
If you were the one who was spending the night
(Spending the night, spending the night)
Oh, I wish that I was-
"Jennifer"
Upon hearing my name, I removed the head phone from my ear and glanced behind me cautiously. I was nearly home, I was earlier than usual and seeing Harry running towards me, confirmed my earlier thoughts; I should have caught a later train. My light footing averted to a brisk pace, plugging the head phone where it should belong, pretending to not have known of his approaching presence.
I knew from the grab of my shoulder that I wasn't fast enough; I flinched from his touch, the contact like a flash back, turning myself into protective mode instinctively. I decided to stop though, as he made all this effort to catch up to me so it must be important.
Of course I would be the judge of that.
"Jennifer" He wheezed, gasping for air as he clutched his knees, his body bent over at the side of me. I raised my eyebrows in response.
"I've been trying to catch up with you for the past ten minutes"
"Yeah and…" I replied, unimpressed. My facial expression was bitter; I had no reason to be nice to the person that was going to make a laughing stock of me.
"I want to talk to you". I was unable to come to the conclusion on whether he didn't sense my tone or was ignoring it instead.
"Well the floor's all yours" Sarcasm unappreciatively dripping from the words that strung from my mouth. He rolled his eyes at my response but otherwise ignored it all the same.
"I want to know why you won't talk to me, look at me or even stand next to me?" He asked, getting straight to the point, standing up straight finally having caught his breath.
"Because I don't like you" I replied bluntly. His eyebrows furrowed in response.
"But you don't even know me?" He accused.
"Oh I know enough" My reply was acidic, causing his eyes to smoulder with anger as they sliced through the air.
A part of me regretted what I'd said but guilt was not my forte, I'd decided a long time ago that any vulnerability on my part would be locked away with a double bolt, the combination to unlock these ugly feelings thrown away and forgotten, so I was baffled on how these feelings are beginning to surface after so long.
Not in any desirable need to be exposed to him, I forced my feet to move and leave him behind. Just like the other night.
However he had to have the last word.
"What from rumours at school? That's so pathetic. I guess if you can make a judgement then so can I. You're a sour stuck up bitch. No wonder you ended up in a care home, not even your parents wanted you" He shouted after me, anger fleetingly splashing through the venomous words, slapping me hard, leaving a stinging sensation and tears threatening to fall.
Carrying on walking I told myself I didn't care what he thought, I told myself that what he said didn't hurt, I told myself that he was wrong.
But why should I lie to myself anymore?