25 | valentine's day

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                 February fourteenth is meant to be the day that we celebrate love, but as I swung my legs out of bed that morning, I couldn't help but hate it already. What was there to possibly celebrate? Love wasn't great or wonderful, it was pretty fucking horrible. That didn't sound like the type of thing I wanted to revel in.

"Your negativity is really getting me down, both of you," Clarice scowled at Meg and I across the dining hall table at breakfast.

Megan rolled her eyes beside me. "Clarice, I don't know why you even like Valentine's Day. You're just as painfully single as we are. You are literally choosing to celebrate the fact that you're an unloved, lonely virgin."

I choked on my mouthful of cereal as I cackled. "Jesus, Meg's a savage and I never even knew."

"Okay, I'm going to ignore that comment," Clarice smiled sarcastically, holding her middle finger up and shoving it in front of Megan's face. "So are you and Harry doing anything special today, Evie?"

"You are aware that we're not a couple, aren't you?" I arched an eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes. "Yet."

I shook my head. "I don't know. I like her, but I'm just...scared, I guess. I don't want to be hurt again."

Megan angled herself to face me. "Harriet is absolutely obsessed with you, Evie. Trust me, she's not planning on breaking your heart anytime soon."

"And plus, you've spent like everyday together this past month. You don't do that with someone that you're not interested in. You can try and push away your feelings all you want, but it's obvious there's something there."

I shook my head. "I don't know. I just feel so conflicted."

"Look," Meg sighed. "You don't have to make any rash decisions just yet. Just see how things go."

I nodded. "Okay, you're probably right. I'd better go though, I've already been late twice this week to Miss Bowen's class. I think she's beginning to hate me." I swung my legs off the bench and sauntered down the hall, my eyes scanning the room for Harriet, who I hadn't seen since yesterday evening. They didn't find her, and my brow furrowed in confusion.

With a sigh, I navigated through the winding corridors until I arrived outside Alex's English classroom. The bell hadn't yet gone — and wouldn't, I realised as I checked my watch, for another two minutes — but I decided to head inside anyway. Maybe being early for once would make up for my lateness this past week. I didn't have good excuses either; both instances had been because I was carried away chatting with Harriet and lost track of time. I figured Miss Bowen wouldn't accept those as valid reasons for my tardiness. She didn't appear to be our biggest fan.

I opened the door with a firm breath inwards, passing her desk wordlessly and heading to my seat. I unpacked my bag in silence, placing my textbook and pad of paper onto the table. I hadn't yet looked her in the eye, but I knew she was there, and I could feel her watching me. Her presence was electrifying, and not in a good way. The tension was ice-cold, and it made me want to shudder.

"This makes a change," she muttered, looking back down at the papers on her desk.

I forced a smile. "You know me, Miss Bowen, full of surprises."

She lifted her head again, and for the first time, our eyes locked. "Yes," she said quietly, and her voice wavered. I swallowed back the rising nerves in my throat. "You are."

What did she mean?

A rush of familiar feelings came flooding back into the pit of my stomach. For the past month, I'd tried my hardest to forget about her, and for a small while, I thought it had worked, but sat here opposite her told me that it definitely hadn't.

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