❝ I'm not scared of you .❞
❝ You should be.❞
Malaina Hill was done playing by the rules. Forced to behave like the perfect daughter by her upper class parents, she's sick and tired of being told what to do. Her mother's words haunt her, making her...
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Malaina Weeks passed before Mateo, and I talked to each other again. The plane ride home from Paris was slightly uncomfortable and awkward, and even though we sat next to each other on the plane, it seemed as though we were avoiding each other.
This idea sounded somewhat impossible, but we managed to make it work. As soon as I got home, I face-planted onto my bed, overcome with exhaustion, anger, confusion, and a hint of jet lag. I liked Mateo, I did, but he didn't want to commit to a relationship the way that I did.
Maybe he didn't want to be tied down, but I wasn't satisfied with something casual like friends with benefits. I wanted something real, where he was solely mine, and I was his. We both simultaneously started ignoring each other at school, and it was like our relationship was back to square one.
During lunch at school, I was practically third-wheeling Aisha and Devonte, growing accustomed to their secretly flirtatious attitudes. Aisha had tried talking to me about what happened to Mateo, but I brushed it aside every time.
"I'm not really in the mood," I had said repeatedly, and it had taken her a while to understand the message. Mateo hung out with Devonte on the days that he wasn't hanging out with Aisha or spending time with the other swim team boys.
Occasionally, Mateo's eyes would catch mine while he was in the middle of a conversation, and a glint of sadness or remorse would be present in his gaze. I quickly forced myself to look away. Just the sight of him was almost enough to make me cry.
I had a bad habit of biting my lips to stop myself from crying. I bit my lip so hard until the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, and I told myself to stop. I almost thought I was over Mateo at some point. I didn't need him, I had thought. I cried myself a river; now I needed to build a bridge and get over it.
This seemed to have been working until one day at lunch when I was proved terribly wrong. The faintest blanket of snow had begun to set on the leaf-barren trees, covering the dead crunchy leaves. The air was slightly cold, nipping at the skin that was left exposed by the school uniform skirt. This was an indication that Winter was almost here.
Because of the weather, we were forced to eat inside, not wanting to freeze to death. We sat at one of the cafeteria tables, drinking steaming hot mugs of tea and hot chocolate that the school had provided for us. The hot chocolate was bland compared to the one I had consumed in Paris, but I forced myself not to think of Paris because if I did, I would start thinking of Mateo.
Devonte had joined Aisha, Henry, and I for lunch while Mateo was eating with the other members of the swim team. Henry was busy talking about the Winter Masquerade that would be happening at the school. Aisha was talking about this lovely dress her mother would have custom-made for her from this German fashion designer, and Devonte was trying to get hints on what colour her dress was, no doubt so that he could purchase a matching tie.
