arms // {phan}

chapter nine - dan

Chapter Nine - Dan:

 I could still taste him, the bitter musky scent that was distinctly boy. I could still feel where his lips smashed against mine, where his hands had squeezed my arms in a viper grip- trying to prevent me from running or himself, I probably would never know.

 I tilted my head and rested it against the car, not really minding that Phil was later than he said he would be. My breath was still slightly hitched from when Logan had invaded my personal space, everything about that moment like sticky, sweet cough syrup.

 I looked up at the puffy clouds, mind reeling- confusion and fantasy running a muck in my brain. Ultimately, it hadn't come as that big of a shock- I'd known what was going to happen the moment Logan had slammed me up against the car, whispering taunts into my ear, his breath ghosting disgustingly over the side of my neck. The kiss had been equally foul, and yet the contact of another boy had left me breathless nonetheless.

 It was pathetic.

 I continued squinting at the sky, counting all the reasons I didn't deserve Phil.

 Oh god, Phil.

 I closed my eyes, my cheeks already growing red. I hoped so badly that he hadn't seen that.

 Not only was it completely mortifying, but I knew that he would think- that he might assume-

 I heard rapid footsteps striding towards me, the gravel crunching angrily under his feet. They stopped suddenly, the sound of controlled breathing only a few inches from me.

 I didn't open my eyes.

 "Howell." Phil said.

 I didn't look at him.

 "Howell." His voice sounded like a command.

 Slowly, I peeked through my lashes, looking up at him, his classic white t-shirt and black jeans with rips in the knees fitting him nicely. Like always. His hair was a mess, the blue tufts sticking up everywhere, making his eyes even more intense.

 I looked down like the coward I was, shuffling my feet, my cheeks growing redder. I looked back up to scan his face, trying to tell whether or not he had seen what had happened earlier.

 I couldn't tell.

 My eyes followed the wisps of his hair around his face. Without thinking, I stepped forward and began patting down his hair.

 Phil's eyes widened and he swore, taking a step back and grabbing my wrist tightly.

 "God, Howell," he said, his voice catching.

 I bowed my head. Everything was always wrong between us. Can we go home now? I signed.

 Phil paused, as if trying to figure a math problem in his head, but always coming up with the wrong answer.

 Without warning, I was being spun around and slammed up against a "Student Only" parking sign, the pole pressing into my spine.

 I cried out in pain as Phil shushed me.

 "God, Howell!" he said, scrunching up his face, his form becoming wild and panicked. "Why is it always you?! Why you? What's so fucking great about you? You're not that different from everyone else- but I always need to protect you! Why can't you- why can't you-" his voice become more choked, as he held back tears.

 I watched and listened silently as his cosmic explosion voice spout nonsense and as the delicate stems that kept him together split apart.

 I was scared. And angry- angry that I was always the source of all the problems.