Together Apart | ✓

|Chapter XXVIII|

If it doesn't burn a little then what's the point of playing with fire?

Chapter 28: This is the last you'll hear from me

Why are we here?"

"I'm just getting something from my locker."

"Why didn't you get it before?"

"Because then I would've been late for cheer and Emily would've made me run laps. Yet she was the one who was twenty minutes late."

"Bet she was fooling around with Kyle considering he was also late for football practice."

"No surprise there."

The voices started to get closer.

"I'm coming over by yours so you can help me decide what to wear tonight."

"Sure." A voice said. "Remind me again why we not going to your house."

I heard the steps come closer as well as the voices. I wasn't sure how long I'd been here but it felt like a long time. The blood had dried up making my skin feel sticky.

"My brother's having his friends over and there's nothing fun about being surrounded by little teenage—"

I lifted my head as someone stared at me in complete disbelief. I couldn't blame her, I most probably looked like Carrie.

"Reece, quick, come here." She called before rushing by my side . "Jeez, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Why you—holy sh*t." The second voice, who I assumed belonged to Reece, gasped.

"What the hell happened to you?" The first girl asked. I didn't say a word not sure if I trusted cheerleaders anymore or let alone anyone.

"Is that blood?" Reece inquired. "Should I get help or something?"

"Help me untie these ropes."

During the years I spent in this hellhole no one bothered helping me in situations like this. All everyone would do was either laugh or stare. But for once someone was helping me—two cheerleaders in fact.

After they untied the ropes, Reece looked through her locker for some extra clothes while the other girl who I learnt was Violet, attempted holding a conversation while I watched how the blood washed off of me traveling down the drain of the shower.

"You know, we almost have all our classes together except French. You're French right?"

"My mother's French." My voice barely came out as a whisper.

"That's cool. People say that it's one of the most difficult European languages to speak."

"French is relatively easy. Hungarian, Finnish and any Slavic language is more challenging."

"Oh. I guess you learn something new everyday." It became quiet. Finally she shut up.

"You know," Spoke too soon. "I just realised. If you're surname is Waltz then isn't your dad the owner of that restaurant that makers killer food?"

"Yeah, he is." I said turning off the shower.

She handed me a towel through the small opening of the curtain. "That's also pretty cool. My dad just burns the food."

I got out of the shower putting my hair into a bun. She continued to speak to me while I cleaned off the blood that got onto my glasses, in the basin.

"Who did this to you?"

I looked at her through the reflection of the mirror. I had to tell someone, even if it was a person I just met.