Something There

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-One:

"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean what I said," I apologize for the trillionth time, and once again, Bryce's only response is a shake of his head, telling me, "Don't worry about it. There's nothing wrong with speaking the truth."

The issue is, I can't stop worrying about it.

Not to mention that what I said couldn't be farther from the truth. Bryce is so sweet and I can tell that he has tons of love in his heart even if he refuses to show it. And though his response would tell me otherwise, I can tell by the sad glint in his eyes that what I said left a mark on him.

I rest my hand on his bicep and he quickly pulls away, slamming his locker shut.

I ignore the sparks that I had felt when my fingertips touched his bare skin, following him like a lost puppy as he walks away from the locker complex, down the hallway and stairs.

"Why did you call me yesterday?" I ask, and he spins around to face me.

We're early, and nobody is in the hallway with us really, only a few students roaming around and chatting.

He takes a deep breath in, and I'm scared I pushed too much even with just that simple question.

"You want an honest answer? It's because I'm lonely, all right? My dad has been away for longer than usual, and I fucking hate being alone in that big ass mansion. Sure, I was thinking about you as I was watching TV and I began wondering about your piercings and all, but I just needed to hear another person's voice before I went mad," he says calmly, and I get a strange idea.

I step forward closer to him, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist, resting my face against his chest.

To my surprise, his arms wrap around me, holding me in this embrace. He presses his lips against the top of my head, and I feel my heart beat growing faster.

"You deserve to be happy. I'm sorry that you feel that way," I whisper, and I could've sworn that I heard him sniffle.

🌸🌸🌸

"I definitely failed this test," Mateo says, leaning to the left in his seat to whisper to me.

I roll my eyes at him, knowing that he did great and is being nervous for no apparent reason.

He's referring to the big math test we had taken over a month ago, the day Bryce was severely hungover. If any of the three of us are to be concerned about a grade, it should certainly be Bryce.

This theory seems to be confirmed when our teacher lays Bryce's test down on the table. The paper is unfortunately facedown, meaning I can't see what his exact mark was, and Bryce doesn't bother checking before he looks up to meet the teacher's eyes.

"Can you speak to me after class?" he asks, and Bryce nods in response, causing the teacher to turn to Mateo and I, setting down both our tests respectively.

"Nicely done," he says to both of us, and we hurriedly flip the papers over, anxious to view our marks.

My eyes scanning my paper, Mateo taps me on the shoulder. "What did you get?" he asks me, and I beam at him.

"I got a ninety-four-point-five," I answer, and he raises his hand for a high five.

"So did I," he grins, and our hands collide for that high five.

Sure, a ninety-four-point-five isn't a perfect mark, but this is a really hard class, so that being considered, we both did pretty well.

"What was that about? Did you fail?" the girl beside Bryce asks, ignoring the test placed down on the desk in front of her.