12 Chapter 11

“Natalie, wake up, you’re gonna be late!”

My mother’s persistent yelling sounded from outside my door. I groaned and rolled over, looking at the clock on my bedside table. I’m already late. First period will be over by the time I get ready and walk to the school. My door starts to open and my eyes land on the pill bottle laying on my bed. Oh crap! The rest of the night flashes through my mind.

Getting the bottle of pills in my upset and frustrated state was not the best idea. Not only that, but it’s also not like me. Do I even know myself anymore? I quickly throw the bottle under my pillow so that my mom doesn’t see it. That’s the last thing I need.

“Hurry up and get dressed. What are you still doing in bed?” she asks me concerned.

“I’m already late anyway,” I sigh.

“I’ll have to drive you. Get up and get dressed. Hurry,” she says one last time before leaving my room, closing the door behind her.

The pills still have me groggy and moving slowly, so I don’t bother to put an effort into my appearance. I throw my hair up into a messy ponytail, grab a black hoodie to put on over my tank top, and grab a random pair of jeans off of the floor followed by my converses. I grab my messenger bag off the floor and sling it over my shoulder, then head downstairs. My mom looks me up and down, shaking her head but not saying anything. She grabs her keys and we head out to the car.

“Why aren’t you at work?” I ask her as we start to pull off.

“I don’t have to be in until later. Are you okay? I never got a chance to talk to you last night after Colton left?”

“I’m fine,” I answer shortly.

“So, why did you sleep so late?”

“I didn’t hear my alarm.”

“Well, how did it go?”

“Fine,” I answer, irritation entering my voice.

I know what she’s doing. She’s trying to get me to open up and tell her everything that happened. I’m not going to, though. I can’t. She must accept defeat because that’s it for conversation. We pull up to the school a few minutes later.

“I love you,” she yells out the window as I’m walking up to the front doors of the school.

I throw my hand up in acknowledgment and walk inside and into the office. I walk up to the woman behind the desk. I don’t even know her name and wait for her to get off of the phone. When she does, she fixes her eyes on me.

“Do you need something?” she asks me politely.

“A late slip.”

“Do you have an excuse?”

I shake my head and look out the window that looks out into the center of the school. As I do, I see Riley making his way from one of the hallways that branch off from the center. He’s looking down another hall as he passes. Then he glances into the office and meets my eyes. His lips curve up into a dazzling smile. At least someone looks good today. Not that that is out of the norm for him. I turn my attention back to the woman just as she starts to hand me the slip. I take it from her with a tight smile and walk out. Riley comes from where he was standing in a corner, waiting for me, and falls into step beside me.

“So, I’m guessing it didn’t go so well, huh?” he asks me gently. I look at him and don’t reply. “I thought you were staying out today. Why are you late?” he presses on.

“Were you upset at the thought of me not being here today?” I mockingly ask, changing the subject.

“I’ll admit, I missed you terribly,” he says, holding his chest dramatically.

“Why are you out of class?”

“Running an errand. Why are you late?”

“I slept late,” I answer shortly.

He frowns, realizing there’s more to it, but doesn’t say anything. He looks me over once and rests his eyes back on mine. I sigh in response.

“I know, I look awful.”

“What?” he asks, his frown deepening.

“That’s what you’re thinking isn’t it?” I ask, raising an inquisitory eyebrow.

“Not at all. You do look like you had a rough night, though,” he states, concern lacing his voice.

“You could say that,” I mutter bitterly.

I stop in front of the door to my classroom and look at him.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you later,” he says, waiting for me to go in.

I nod, turning around and going in without looking back. I shut the door and realize the whole class is staring at me. What? Have they never seen someone late before? I walk up to the teacher and hand him the slip. I scan the room and notice that the only seat open is the one next to Andrea. This should be fun. The last thing I’m in the mood for is some extremely happy person talking my ears off. I throw my bag to the floor and sit down. I lean back in my chair and stare straight ahead about to zone out.

“Are you okay?”

I close my eyes for a second then turn my head to look at her. “Perfect,” I mutter.

“I was wondering, do you think you can talk to Riley for me? I don’t know, maybe put in a good word. I just don’t know how much progress I’m making on my own.”

I sigh. “Look, I don’t really want to get into that. I’m not the type to.”

“Please? Just this once. He would probably listen to you. He seems to really care about you. I would be worried if I didn’t already know that you’re in love with Colton,” she says, chuckling apprehensively.

I stiffen. “What? No, no I’m not. I loved him, yes, but I’m not in love with him,” I snap, confused and taken off guard entirely. I don’t know how much of this conversation I can handle.

“You could have fooled me,” she mutters, her eyes widening.

“Well, I wasn’t trying to,” I snap back at her.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push a button,” she apologetically counters.

I don’t say anything. Instead, I focus my gaze straight ahead. She doesn’t talk to me for the rest of the period. I’m relieved that she doesn’t. When the bell rings, I gather up my stuff and walk out into the crowded hallway. I should have just skipped. I could really use a break and some cheering up.

I look around the hallway, looking for blonde hair. I spot him a distance away walking with the girl from P.E. Great. He looks away from her, smiling and nodding, and spots me. He throws up his hand in a small wave and I return it. He looks back at her and says something. She throws her arms around his neck, hugging him. He wraps one arm around her waist, hugging her back, his eyes on me the whole time, then walks over to me. I raise my eyebrows at him. He smiles and shrugs.

“What’s up?” he asks me.

“Does everyone like you?” I ask, doing my best to keep the unavoidable bitterness out of my tone.

He shrugs again and throws his arm over my shoulder. I glance at it but don’t say anything. “So, what was up with you this morning?”

“Nothing,” I automatically reply.

“It was something. I could tell,” he persists.

“Perceptive, are we?” I raise an eyebrow and smirk at him.

“I guess you could say that.”

“I was just late,” I repeat, trying to reassure him and get the subject dropped as fast as possible.

“Natalie, something was wrong, is still wrong. Just remember what I said. I’m here for you if and when you want to talk.”

I look up into his eyes and see they’re filled with sincerity and concern. I nod, my throat tight, and give him a reassuring smile. There’s no way I can tell him what I did. He wouldn’t look at me the same. He would be disappointed and leave me; decide that I’m not worth it or any of the trouble that comes with being involved in my life in any capacity. I don’t think I can handle that. Even though these feelings are exactly what I’ve been fighting against and swearing to myself that I wouldn’t let happen. I can’t deny it anymore. He’s sucked me in if even just a fraction of a bit. He studies me for a second then drops it and smiles. And just that perfect, world brightening smile of his makes me instantly feel better, warmer, and able to pretend like nothing is wrong in my life at the moment. But, inevitably, only for a moment.