Bruised

12.

Natalie sat cross-legged on her bed, resisting the urge to slip into a long nap. Her eyes threatened to fall shut, her head slumping to the side, desperate to land on her soft pillow.

It had been a long day at school, starting with her midterm exam at nine in the morning.

Natalie aced it. Of course, she did. She had spent so much time going over her notes, she could've taken the test in her sleep.

It didn't matter if she was yawning all through the test. She got it done. She didn't need to wait for her results to know that she'd done well.

And that was exactly what she told Nyra when she asked, after the teacher had collected all papers.

"Of course, you did well. When have you ever not done well?" Nyra had teased.

Natalie shrugged through a yawn. "I'm just feeling really good about this one."

"You didn't sleep last night or something?" her friend asked.

Natalie warmed. Her hands shot up to cover her eye bags. She hadn't bothered to conceal them this morning. Maybe it had been a mistake.

"Is it that obvious?" Natalie asked.

Nyra laughed, like that question was an obvious one. "You've been yawning once every thirty seconds. Let me guess what kept you up."

"Studying, obviously," Natalie said quickly.

The girl beside her had simply laughed, her eyes flickering over Natalie's shoulder. "Well, it looks like you weren't the only one."

Natalie followed her gaze to find Veronica yawning widely before slumping onto her desk, face down.

"Maybe I should follow suit," Natalie muttered, feeling tempted to shut her eyes, if only for a minute.

"Well, you've got about six minutes until the bell," Nyra said.

"Six minutes?" Natalie shook her head, blinking her eyes hard to keep them open. "I should start getting ready for next period."

She pulled out her notebook, flipping through the pages to find yesterday's notes and homework.

By the end of the day, Natalie was beyond exhausted. 

A part of her was a little relieved that Leon didn't show up—she probably looked like a wreck with dark bags and a slumped posture, yawning every minute.

Still, she was a little sad she couldn't see him today. She hoped he did well in his match.

So, here she was, cross-legged on her bed, head creeping closer and closer to her pillow.

Her usual notes were spread out in front of her, but her hands were occupied with her Ophelia book instead.

She couldn't help it. Not only was she too exhausted to study, but after last night's adventure—leaping out a window, riding on the back of a motorbike, learning to punch—she felt like she had lived a chapter in one of her books.

She wanted to go back.

And although she couldn't reverse time and relive last night or leap out of her window now and try to do it all over again, what she could do was escape into her romance novels and pretend the face she imagined as she read wasn't Leon's.

When she shut her eyes, she could remember the feeling of his hands on her waist, his fingers brushing over her knuckles.

She clutched her book to her chest and kicked her feet, her whole body feeling hot with the memory.

"Natalie!"

She jumped, her eyes snapping to her bedroom door where her dad stood, frowning.

"Dad!" she exclaimed. She went to hide her book, but it was too late. He'd seen it.