Love Me Like You Hate Me (Edited Version)

Chapter 22

Monday had come far too quickly. I had hoped no one would notice my rough appearance, but I could feel a pair of familiar eyes on my back causing me to pull my hood further over my face. The moment I had entered the classroom their eyes had zeroed in on my face and narrowed ever so slightly. Now, as I sat a few feet away from them, I felt like a hole might appear in the back of my navy blue hoodie, seared by the burn of their stare.

I shifted uncomfortably, finding the air almost too thick to breathe. My right hand gripped my pencil while my other hand tugged on my hood even more. I was sweating feverishly and wiped my palm on my jeans. It was way too tense to even think about focusing on class.

I stared at the clock on the wall behind our teacher, tapping my heel anxiously on the floor. The ticking of the clock seemed sluggish and thundering, like it was teasing me; it was telling me it would trap me here for as long as it saw fit. I looked down at my open notebook and swallowed back bile. Just a few more minutes. Just a few more minutes until the bell rang. I had study hall next period and Zack had English, allowing me to hide out in peace for at least an hour.

My heel was still tapping the floor, steadily speeding up its spastic rhythm. The eyes on my back started to hurt physically and I hunched my shoulders, closing my eyes tightly. Just look away already, I begged, leave me alone.

Suddenly, the bell erupted throughout the classroom and everyone started picking up their stuff. I had mine packed and ready to go almost instantly. Then I bolted from the room, taking a quick right into the bathroom and ducking into one of the stalls to wait out the three minutes given to get from one class to the next.

After waiting until only one minute until the bell, I left the bathroom and hurried to study hall. I made it in the door just as the bell rang, signaling that the next period had started. The library was quiet and I took a deep, relaxing breath as I headed for a table I knew was hidden all the way in the back. It was where I usually spent my study halls since it was isolated and because few students liked sitting in the dark corner of the library alone.

I weaved between and around bookshelves until I came to the very last bookshelf in the far left corner of the library. I rounded the shelf, expecting to sit down and concentrate on some algebra homework, but instead coming to a full stop. Zack was sitting at my usual table, bag slung over an extra chair, chin in his hand. He was waiting for me. Almost as soon as I stop, I started again, walking in the opposite direction as quickly as I could.

I hope Zack hadn't seen me, but that was the only entrance to that table area and he'd been facing it. I wasn't surprised to hear my name being called with a hushed tone in that familiar, demanding way I had grown to know so well. I tried to ignore it, but then a hand grabbed my shoulder and I was yanked back into a bookcase.

Zack grabbed the front of my shirt and I ducked, afraid he might hit me. Thankfully, he did not. Instead, as I peeked between my fingers, I saw a mix of anger and concern written on his face. He released my shirt and stepped back. "When I tell you to wait, I mean wait," he grumbled.

I lowered my hands, but kept my defensive posture, ready to bolt if the need arose. "What do you want?" I asked, feeling like a mouse under his angry glare.

He frowned at me. "What happened to your face?" he questioned.

Almost reflexively, my hand flew up to tugged my hood further down again. "Nothing..." I mumbled. "It was just an accident."

He slapped my hand away and yanked my hood off, revealing my bruised face as well as the rings around my neck from Rich's fingers. I stepped back into the bookshelf, putting a hand over my neck to try and hide the bruising. Zack glared at me. "Just an accident? I'm not stupid, Erik," he snapped, angrier than I thought he'd be.