pretty chapped lips : malum :

1.7

Skipping class is something I'm used to. It's something I do to clear my head when my senses have been numbed by a fog I cannot lift, or hide from the looks and laughter sounding like nails on a chalk board, causing my own to dig into my flesh. But I must admit, never have I been quite so nervous.

All I could hear was the tap of my feet against the tiled hallway floor. Classes went on around me without bother, teachers rambling and students not listening, it was like everything was frozen yet still continuing as always. The hallway was so silent you could hear a pin drop, sound ricocheting like a gun shot off the lockers and poster covered walls. It was unnerving, like a scene from a horror film and I was the first to go.

I was panicked, stressed and I could practically feel beads of cold, uncomfortable sweat beginning to drip down the back of my neck. My hands felt shaky, in fact, I swore my whole body was swaying like branches in the breeze as I shoved sweaty hands into the pockets of scratchy school trousers. Hair in my eyes, shoulders bowed with bottom lip between teeth, I couldn't help but worry.

What if he hadn't meant me? What if there was someone else in that room he beckoned forward? What if it was all just my imagination trying to create something to make my life more worthy.

What if.

I couldn't seem to calm my worried mind. Every little what if crashed into me like waves to the shore and my stomach was twisting in knots as I got closer, and closer still to the door at the end of the hall. The only thing standing between me and him, to sound dramatic that is.

(In reality there was also a stretch of concrete.)

I made a decision as I got closer to the doors and as my stomach churned. If it wasn't just paranoia, if it was true that perhaps he hadn't meant for it to be me: then I could escape with my dignity or what I have left of it still attached.

I'll just walk by, I told myself with a deep breath as if to remind myself that I could actually breathe. If he stops me, he meant it to be me. If he doesn't, well, then I'll close the bathroom door behind me and wonder why even the idea of that hurts as much as it does.

My hands still shook.

When I reached the door, the very same emergency exit I ran out of with tears steaming and ears burning from things I wished had never been said: I pushed it open, without a single thought on turning back.

The sun was bright, blindingly so as it shone in my eyes. Head ducked down, dark hair falling out of place, I looked around myself. Despite the sun that shone into my eyes, heat waves rolling like sound waves above the pavement, I managed to see him.

So, I walked to him.

I kept my head down, just enough for the strands of faded dyed hair to fall into my eyes only enough to hopefully give off the illusion of being unable to see. But I could. Because I saw him. He stood with a foot propped up against the bark of the tree which his back pressed to, cigarette between his lips with stubs littering by his feet. The sun shone off his tanned skin, carving out the hallows of under his eyes and catching the sheen of his hair every time he moved his head.

But I lowered my head.

Heart pounding, stomach churning and mind a mess; I edged closer and closer still, until I was about to pass.

And with that, my heart stopped.

"Hey."

A/N so, i hate trying to update on wattpad. it doesnt keep formating that i have since i write on word and i swear im going to tear my hair out.

anyways this update is early and a yay because im now off for the summer therefore will be working significantly more on my writing and other ideas that you have yet to know of.

as always, vote, comments and blah blah blah

i love you,

-rachel x