The Ride Home

Chapter 19

It was raining extremely hard outside.

I put on a massive hoodie, trying to impersonate a marshmallow.

I put my hair in messy bun, knowing it would just get messed up anyways in the rain.

Believe me, I love the rain.

But I hate the rain at school. Everything you touch is damp and staying warm is nearly impossible.

I took a deep breath before I sprinted out of the bus and into the sluggish school. I booked it into my English class before the tardy bell could ring.

Why am I always I late?

I glanced towards Blake's assigned seat to see it was empty. Curiosity bubbled inside of me but I quickly disregarded it.

"Let's begin!" My teacher called out happily, clapping his hands together like a seal.

English drew on painfully slow. My eyelids felt heavy by the time lunch came around and I could feel sleep nag me.

I walked into the library and weakly sat next to Ben. I rested my head inside my arms and let my eyes flutter to a close.

"Have you seen Holly?" Ben questioned abruptly.

"No, but I think she's retaking a test," I muttered back.

"Your backpack is soaking wet," Ben observed.

I inwardly groaned and looked at him with a bored expression.

"Rain is never in my favor," I replied.

"Well, thank fully you don't need to worry about it too much," he pointed out.

Living in California means little to no rain. And when it did rain, people acted like it was a new Holiday.

"We should just ditch school," I thought aloud.

Ben looked at me like had grown another head.

"Ditch? Are you crazy? We can't ditch, especially with finals coming up," Ben argued.

"It was just a thought," I defended quietly.

Blake would ditch with me. Then again, Blake is terrible influence. Shouldn't I be surrounding myself with good influence, like Ben? Yet I am drawn to a shadowy and broken figure like Blake.

Ben sighed but was quick to change the subject. And I only stared at him with a blank expression.

What had happened to Ben and I? While we were friends our conversations would draw on for hours and I would be bent over laughing. But after we commenced into a relationship that involved more than "just friends", our conversation diluted into pointless small talk.

I just wanted to go back to the friendship we once had.

"One time when I was little, I was playing out in the rain with my big brother. And a massive -" he recalled spontaneously.

"I don't love you," I whispered as my vision began to get distorted.

"What?" he paused.

"I don't think I ever was," my words were barely audible.

"What's wrong? I really can't hear w-"

"Ben, we need to break up," My voice was shaky and weak. I kept the tears back; I didn't deserve to cry.

"What- Why? Sienna-"

"I don't love you, Ben."

He opened his mouth but closed it immediately. I tried to prepare myself for what could come, but that task is nearly impossible. He merely stood up and walked out the library.