Needing Adelaide | ✓

45 ~ I need you...

Adelaide

Three months later

"AH CHOO!—"

"Ew, Ads! I felt that on my arm!" Em grimaces, shaking her arm and moving away from me.

I laugh, pushing the school door open for us, "Sorry Em, you know how bad my allergies are in the spring."

"Whatever, cover your mouth next time," Emery shoves my backpack, laughing when I threaten to sneeze on her again.

These past couple months have been hard. Turns out recovering from a gunshot wound that missed your lung by a hair, is a painful healing process. Who knew?

I had to avoid lifting anything over 15 pounds, and any strenuous physical activity. My right arm was in a sling so I couldn't write and I spent the week after I was discharged at Jonathan's apartment. Lazing in his bed, being spoiled by him since he took a couple days off of work to dote on me.

Lazy make out sessions are my fave. I think they're his as well. *wink wink*

My wound doesn't hurt much anymore. The skin is still red and tender, a pretty noticeable scar is starting to form but oh well. Another one for my collection I guess. I went back to school after a week and a half, and to say things changed would be a huge understatement.

Jonathan's not-so-secret fan club isn't even trying to hold back now that the base of his horrible rumor source is gone. And I may or may not have fans of my own now as well. High schoolers getting shot in Black Valley isn't that common, as it should be. The religious students think what happened to me was a miracle, boys have only now started to notice me and my beautiful self, and girls want to befriend me. Although I'm almost positive it's just to try and get closer to Miller and steal him from me. Heh, losers. He's mine.

Speaking of...

Making our way to my locker, the usual crowd is blocking the hallway like an annoying wall of giggling meat bags. Jonathan is taller than the average person so his head of brown hair is noticeable over the whole group of people.

At least they keep their distance. Jonathan may be smoking hot and drool worthy but their instincts tell them he wants his space. Otherwise he will use his famous death glare to warn you to step away. He won't actually do anything. But they don't need to know that.

I normally love people, but even with the little distance they give, I would also feel suffocated.

Once we make it to the crowd I see there is no space for me to squeeze through. I tap on one girl's shoulder to get her attention.

She glances back and I ask, "Hey, could I get past?"

One of her eyebrows arch as she looks down on me. Curse her and her long model legs. She scoffs, "Just look at him from there. Obsessed much?"

Okay, maybe she isn't aware she's standing in the middle of the hall with over two dozen other people for the sole purpose of gawking at my boyfriend.

Emery reaches out and shoves the girl aside, a surprised squeal coming from her obnoxious glossy lips. Would've turned heads if not for the loud chattering and swooning. I swear it's like right out of a cheesy movie.