the cabin 》h.s

sixteen

chapter 16

"Ray," I keep walking, ignoring him. I didn't ignore him because I was pissed or anything. I just didn't feel like talking to him. I was tired, I felt mentally & physically exhausted. "Ray, wait up!"

I sigh, yawning as I turn & face him just outside our cabin. "Yes, Harry?" I look at him with droopy eyes.

"What's beating you?" He says with concerned eyes, "I said I was sorry."

Oh, but he did. Harry apologised a few times the whole way back; and though I continued to tell him it was fine, he kept accusing me of being angry. But I wasn't angry. Which was weird. Quite frankly, I felt drained.

From the second Mr. Adams gave us our grade, that being a fat F, I felt myself drain completely. It just flattened my mood to the point where I felt being alone and curled up in a ball in my bed until I fell into a deep slumber would put me in a better mood when I woke up.

But I couldn't. Despite not having my own bed with me, I couldn't because Harry was my roommate and quite frankly very consistent on figuring out why I was "so angry." When I really wasn't..

"I know, and I said it's fine."

"But you're mad," Harry argued back.

"I'm not mad, Harry. But the more you keep accusing me of being mad, I will eventually become so."

"So you're getting mad?" He asked, which only caused me to groan in annoyance, rolling my eyes and entering the cabin in silence.

I just wanted to sleep, honestly.

"Is this because we slept together?" He asked after closing the door behind him.

"Technically, we didn't sleep together," I state matter-of-factly, trying to change the subject.

"We could have, if you didn't go up my bunk."

"You were in my bed, Harry."

"You could have told me to move-"

"I shouldn't have to, it was my bunk," I try to laugh, though I wasn't amused. I was just getting tired and I knew if I didn't shed some light to this discussion, it would've ended up turning into an argument which was the absolute last thing I wanted. "But all in all, no. I'm not mad, and even if I were, I doubt it'd have anything to do with us having sex."

"Why's that?"

"Because there's nothing to be mad at about the sex, jeez, Harry. Why are you so concerned?" I let out a laugh again, though this time growing agitated.

"It's not that I'm concerned, Ray, you just have bitch face written all over you," He pointed out, sitting on my bunk as I lean against the dresser facing him, "It's kinda hard not to ask if you're mad at me."

"Why should it matter? You never seemed to care back then," I tell him honestly. And in truth? It felt a little tinge of pain in my heart saying so. Because he didn't.

"It's not that I care, Ray, we agreed to get along during this trip."

"And you're right. Yes, we did agree. But I'm telling you, Harry, I'm not mad. So please, quit asking. I am fine. I'm bummed we failed the first assignment, but.. I'm fine."

"That's what this is about? You're mad about a stupid grade?" He asks with a grumpy look on his face, standing up.

I groan, irritated. "I'm bummed, not mad. There's a difference."

"Ray, it's just a grade-"

"It's Reagan, and it's not just about the grade, Harry. Look, it doesn't matter. Really, it doesn't, so can we please just drop it?" I ask, growing frustrated.