Someone Will Remember Us

Workshops

Chapter Five

Ignoring Winston has proved to be easier than I thought it would be.

I barely have any free time left to think about him, Scott has started to help me study to make sure I actually have a chance at graduating.

I didn't know studying could be this much work but it's still better than having to repeat senior year and graduating at the same time as my younger sister.

Nah, I probably wouldn't even graduate then, I'd keep on repeating senior year until the age of thirty.

But wanting to graduate also means that I have to start paying attention on school trips. I can't mess about and I can't just run off somewhere and then come back when it's time for us to leave.

I don't even know what the point of this trip is. We're at some ancient museum but I don't really pay attention. Scott tells me to just take notes but my hands get tired from writing and I get the dates and events muddled up because the tour guide is speaking too fast and I give up.

Scott sighs but he doesn't give me shit about how I should be trying harder, he knows that I really am trying.

"I'll let you copy mine later," he says as he puts his notebook into his backpack.

We've stopped at one of the benches outside the museum because we're supposed to be heading to another building to have our lunch now. Then we're coming back here for some workshops and then we can finally end this torture and head back to school.

"God, I'd prefer taking maths with Mr Dunbar over this dumb trip," I say as Scott and I trail behind the group.

"You would?" Scott asks me with a raised eyebrow.

"Nah," I admit and we laugh.

We walk on but we slow down a little and the group leaves us behind.

I don't mind it. Slowly walking with Scott by my side. For the first time in a long while, things are good for both of us. Not perfect, but good.

We walk together with smiles on both of our faces, we don't say anything and we don't have to.

Scott knows about my mom. He didn't have to ask to be told, I told him because I trust him. She hasn't moved back in permanently but every day she keeps on spending more and more time at our house. I could get used to coming home to her homemade dinners.

Even dad has been trying to be better. He stills gives me that look whenever I do something that annoys him and I know that I'm on thin ice, he'll explode soon. But for now, he's trying to act like the perfect husband until he convinces mom to move back in.

Estella is convinced that she will. Me? I don't believe in fairytales.

I look to my right and my good mood immediately disappears.

It feels like someone's twisting a knife into my stomach and I clench my jaw to remind myself that it shouldn't hurt. I'm ignoring him, not the other way around.

But what if I'm wrong? What if he's had enough, got tired of chasing after me? He stuck around longer than most people would have so I do have to give him props for that.

He's standing near some of the benches, camera in hand. He brings it up to his eyes and I watch him take some photos of the group in front of us.

Fucking look at me.

Look. At. Me.

I put my hand inside my jacket pocket and I fumble around looking for the scrap of paper.