Wicked Summer Games. BxB (Complete)

14. Strangers.

Saturday.

The sound of the doorbell snatches me from my sleep. The first enjoyable sleep I have ever gotten since Thursday. How could I even sleep well when my mind kept drifting back to the tangible nightmare of when I found Axel with that girl?

But now, with the new covers and with Axel gone, I finally had that sleep. And now I am waking up, and I doubt I will be able to go back again.

The pain.

Surprisingly, the chirping bird behind my room is not making that noise anymore. Is it okay? Did it die? I would probably go out and check, but for now, the bell keeps getting louder and even if I want to ignore it, I can't.

It's probably the mailman, pizza guy, or some plumber or whoever. I will just tell them that Aunt Nima is not home and to come back later. Maybe I will try going back to sleep—Monday is stealthily creeping up on me, and I am so glad I am done with all my summer assignments. All that's left to do now is to nap like my life depends on it, or for eternity like Aunt Nima likes to put it.

I push the covers away and slide into Aunt Nima's slippers. I did find my slippers, by the way, but hers are far too comfortable, so I stuck with them. I will probably carry them home.

I step out of my room, the house is quiet. I'm not surprised or scared. Aunt Nima told me she'd be out with her work colleagues for some party—I still think she just wants to see Mr. green shirt.

I let her. She seems happy around this person, and I hope he is genuinely into her. Either way, it's none of my business.

Jamie, on the other hand, did not say anything about leaving, but he was not in his room, not in the TV room, and not in the kitchen either. I have no idea where he is, he's probably at Axel's.

Even thinking about him hurts. I really can't wait to go back to the city. That way I will forget about him—this place reminds me so much of him.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I pull the door open.

I want to cry when I meet familiar dark eyes.

I am just too weak to handle any of this.

There, I admit it, I am fucking weak to face the person looking at me right now.

My heart drops to my stomach and picks up its pace. I wish to shut the door and run to my room, then cry into my pillow.

I hate how my heart stings. It hurts so much I can almost taste the pain. It's rippling.

I don't want to be part of this. I would like to spend the last free day before school starts enjoying, and him being here is not helping on the "enjoying" part.

For what feels like decades, we stare at each other. Like the strangers we are. He broke whatever connection or friendships we had built over a few days when he disrespected me like that. I still haven't forgiven him for fucking in my bed. 

I am not petty, it's just hard to forgive something like that. It's as though he was rubbing it in my face that he could fuck whoever he wanted and not even me or anyone else could say anything about it.

"Luke?" Axel utters, there's a hint of surprise in his tone. Did he think I left already? Or was he expecting someone else to get the door?

"What do you want?" I want to avoid talking to him, but it is impossible. All I can do right now is get rid of him as hastily as I can.

I need my peace.

I need my sanity, and looking at him is not good for my health.

Today, he's sporting a plain dark shirt, plain dark jeans—not ripped this time, and the same combat boots he's always wearing. His dark hair is as well a mess—not like it's ever been any other way.

"I-"

"Jamie is not home. I don't know where he went, and Aunt Nima isn't home either. You should come back later," I mumble in one breath. I'm trying so hard to sound indifferent, I want to feel detached. I don't want my heart to thud at his sight, I don't want my stomach to flutter when he says my name. I just want to be free of him.

And it starts with sending him away.

Axel hesitates as if he intends to say something, but he's still figuring it out. His eyes don't leave mine, the corner of his bottom lip is dragged into his mouth—carelessly sucking on it.

His hands rest at his sides, I'm surprised they are not in his pockets, but I don't care.

It seems like he won't say anything for now, so until he has something else to say—something like "Luke, I forgot to apologize the other day for what I did on your bed. It was very terrible"—until then, I'd just go back to bed and continue sleeping.

According to the plan, I glance at him for the last time before I shut the door—but he places his black boot on the door, so it doesn't close.

I furrow my eyebrows, and glare at him.

"I can wait for him," he mumbles, eyes not leaving mine.

I want to scream, "fuck you!" in his face, but I can't say anything about their arrangement. Maybe Jamie told him to wait.

So, ignoring how painfully my heart thuds, I turn and walk straight to my room.

I won't come out until this bastard has left.

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