Chapter Fifteen

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You can play the original story Downright Delinquents via downloading Chapters Interactive on your Apple or Play store! Fall in love with the story all over again by making your own decisions! Available in English, Spanish, Polish, and German!

You can play the original story Downright Delinquents via downloading Chapters Interactive on your Apple or Play store! Fall in love with the story all over again by making your own decisions! Available in English, Spanish, Polish, and German!

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By Friday, Wren and I have gone to the gym four days out of the five of the school week.

I haven't had a drink for three days. Every time I feel like one, I find Wren and we sweat it out together.

I swing my bag over my shoulder and bid farewell to Constance. Harold visited throughout the week and said I could come to stay on the weekend. I can't wait to escape this prison.

"How come you're heading home? I thought you don't see your mum when she has a boyfriend?" I ask Wren when we meet downstairs. We're both still dressed in our exercise clothes. The cool night air breezes over my flushed skin.

"I try to avoid it, but I can't stand being here on the weekends, with Harlow turning our room into a crack den." He exhales. "Besides, if she can't stand to be without him for a night, she can go there. I wouldn't care."

I see the headlights of Harold's car swing into the car park. I press a hand to Wren's shoulder.

"Be careful."

He places his hand over mine for a moment. His skin is warm. "I will. You too."

I want to tell him I'll miss him, but the words get caught in my mouth. I want him to reach out and kiss me. God, I want him to kiss me.

"See you on Monday," I say instead.

Wren's fingers wrap around mine, and he pulls me back to him. He looks at his feet for a moment before meeting my eyes.

"I can't wait until Monday."

"What do you mean?"

"Meet me tomorrow."

Butterflies. Explosion. In my stomach.

"Where?" I whisper.

His fingers weave through mine. "Do you have your phone on you?"

"Yes," I answer, digging in the pocket of my bag. He quickly puts his number in.

"I want to see you tomorrow," he tells me, still holding my hand. "I'll message you."

I can't stop smiling. "Okay. I'll be waiting."

His hand briefly moves to my face. He likes to do that, I've realised. I lean into his hand and he smiles at me. That beautiful smile.

"See you tomorrow."

"See you," I whisper.

I hurry to Harold's car and slide inside.

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