The Bad Boy of Mine

Chapter 5 ll I feel special.

Zoey's POV

All eyes were on me, making me uncomfortable.

Can't I hang out with the boys?

Because they are hot as hell and barbies like Gianna wants you to back off. That's why.

Tears welled up in my eyes. My heart scrunched painfully, my stomach churned, making me feel uneasy. My breathing came in ragged gasps. Genesis, Xavier and Evelyn looked at me sympathetically. I hung my head low, in an attempt to hide the embarrassment and humiliation that stood on my face manifestly.

Zoey, get a grip. You must not cry. This is an order. Did you forget the promise you made with your mother? You promised her not to cry. No matter what happens, don't cry. Gianna Taylor isn't worth your tears. You only cry for your mother. Not minor stuffs like this.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up slowly. 

Chris.

His gaze softened upon seeing my current state. His eyes held sympathy and an emotion which I can't seem to decipher. I shot him a weak smile and stood up. I really picked a good day to wear my white oversized sweater, the sweater's sleeves reached to the end of my fingers. I could swimmingly cover half of my face with them on my hands. I wiped away those tears that never had the chance to escape from my eyes. I gave all my friends a strained smile and ran out of the cafeteria. 

---

Hiding my feelings and emotions was never my forte. I hate controlling my feelings when all I want to do at the moment is to give my depressing inner self liberty. When my father left me, my perfect world of being loved and pampered, turned upside down. My father was always the one to give me support and encouragement. It was always him. He gave me warmth. He gave me comfort. He gave me security. I always felt like I'm my father's little princess. He has this ability to drive away any thoughts of vacillation and self-doubt. Most importantly, he makes you feel at ease. The times I spent with him was short. The memories I have of him are vague. But still, my love for him remains.

By this point of time, I felt like I was a total fool. Why am I so stupid? I should have begged my father not to leave me. I should have begged my mother not to let my father leave me. I should have begged my mother to stop mourning over him. I should have denied the boys' invitation and walk away.

I sat down under an oak tree in the school's yard, hiding in the tree's dark shadow. I propped my knees up and hung my head down.  Tears began to form in my eyes. I blinked my eyes, forcefully wanting those tears to never extricate. 

"I'm such a loser." I muttered, feeling depressed. Sorrow and fatigue were like heavy loads that sat comfortably on my shoulders. 

"Psh. You are no loser." a voice that I could recognise almost immediately, appeared.

Chris. 

I looked up and again, his gaze softened. His hands that was nicely tucked in his jeans pocket dropped to his side.  He took a deep breath and found a spot a few metres away from me.

"Come here." he gestured to the empty space beside him. 

That spot looks so inviting. 

What the bloody hell, Zoey. 

I shook my head and dropped my head into the air. 

I heard Chris let out a frustrated sigh and some shuffling noises. Before I had the chance to react, I felt two calloused hands on my waist. I gasped a little and Chris brought me to the area beside him. 

"There you go." 

"Was that necessary?" I furrowed my eyebrows at him.

"Yes. Since you weren't listening to me."