Chapter Forty-One

Mia Collins had been blowing up my phone all weekend. In the past, I would have seen this as a great thing, an extraordinary, rare dream come true. But not anymore. Each voicemail, each missed call, every blasted text message that came through branded the memory of what she'd said in my mind like a red-hot iron against warm skin.

For each one, I was brought back to the moment, when the girl I trusted so foolishly, so naively, looked me in the eyes and tried to hurt me in the best way she knew how. It was a memory that would stay with me forever.

It had only taken an hour or so after she'd left my house before she realized her mistake, and for the notifications to start coming in.

Her first attempt was phone call spamming. This consisted of lighting my phone up with about a dozen phone call attempts, none of which I picked up.

Her second strategy was to drown me with apologetic self-deprecating text messages. She called herself a bitch about a hundred times over and wrote lengthy paragraphs apologizing for every last hurtful word she said. I deleted each one as efficiently as they came in with deadened emotionless eyes. For each message, I found myself getting angrier, not better.

Her third strategy was bargaining. Shamefully, the most interesting one. Here, Mia started offering to do favors for me. She offered to cook for me, to clean for me, to be my personal servant. An hour into spamming me with this, she clearly started to lose her mind as she started asking me if lingerie or nude photos would help earn her forgiveness.

I admit, I had hesitated a minute or so before I went right back to deleting the messages. If I had any sense, I would have blocked her, instead of letting myself go through this rare form of mental torture.

Then, her last fourth strategy of the weekend was to show up at my house with no warning. There was a knock at the door, and when I looked out the window to check, that's when I saw her.

She was standing on my porch, her dark hair pulled back into a single braid. It stung to see, bringing bitter memories back of when I first saw her on that first day of school with those two little braids. The memory felt almost mocking now, like a joke.

Like an idiot, I watched her the whole time like a fool from the window, my heart thumping away. Not in the foolish love-sick way it normally did, but in a painful way – an exhausting one.

I watched her anxiously crack her knuckles four times as she waited for someone to answer, and I watched her pace. Her brown eyes spun and looked around the house as she waited, and soon enough our door opened.

I stiffened, knowing my mum was there. I hadn't had the heart to tell her what Mia had said, but she still heard the yelling and I had consulted with her long enough for her to know I wanted Mia nowhere near me.

With a locked jaw, I watched as my mum blabbered some kind of excuse to Mia for why she couldn't come in. Mia nodded, and smiled stiffly but from all the way up here, I could still see the brokenness behind her eyes, the weakness.

My heart squeezed briefly as I looked at her, and for a second, I wanted to take everything back. To call her upstairs, to kiss her, to tell her I forgive her.

That's when Mia's eyes flickered up to stare up at my window, and then as we locked eyes, I was reminded of her words and how callously she had said them. Like that any hope of forgiveness was gone. I'd never forgive her, not now, not ever. I quickly pulled down the shades and turned away, not letting myself look at her any longer.

At that moment, I promised myself I would do all I could do to make sure I never felt anything for Mia Collins again.

Now it was Monday. By some miracle I had managed to get myself dressed, and ready after spending the weekend shut up in my room, and now I was marching my way with a scowl through the school corridor.

I had no desire to talk to anyone today, not even Lucas. I'd told him what happened almost immediately, and he'd been as angry as me for a short while, but now that anger had just shifted into worry.

It was on his face every time he looked at me, along with pity. I knew him, and I knew it was only a matter of time before he tried to talk what he thought was 'sense into me,' and to try and get me to let go of my anger.

But I didn't want it gone, my anger at her was keeping me safe. The moment I stopped being angry, was the moment I let myself get soft with her and I'd never trust her with that part of me anymore.

She was a monster in my eyes – plain and simple.

After exchanging my books from my locker, I slammed it shut before starting to make my way toward my first class of the day. It was Math, and for every step I took I felt anxiety churn in my stomach knowing far too well who was in this class.

Her attempts at contact had started to slow some since she'd tried to visit me at my house, but there were still attempts. The last thing I wanted was for her to talk to me. I didn't trust myself with her, she was far too good at getting me to feel things for her, things I never wanted to feel again.

I stepped into the classroom and immediately stopped by the entrance, and let my eyes dance over the available seats. There were a couple of students already in the room and as I searched for my normal seat, I froze. Mia was sat right in the chair beside the one I normally sat in. My heart flipped over.

She was staring at me, her eyes jumping all over mine anxiously, the thick grooves between her brows communicating her worry. Her eyes looked intense and begging, pleading for me to come and sit with her. I hated how much they resembled a vulnerable little puppy and I hated myself even more for thinking that.

I tightened my lips, letting my gaze push through her, refusing to let myself take her in again. She's not a puppy, Ethan, she's a python – deadly and striking. Move on.

I let my eyes carry onward and walked swiftly over to a seat in the far corner of the room. I quickly calculated it was the furthest possible seat away from Mia. It was the safest seat.

As soon as I'd settled myself in, I heard a heavy sigh from across the room, and the next minute I heard a quick shuffle of papers that sounded scarily similar to the sound of someone collecting up their stuff. I didn't dare look, not wanting her to think I cared about her.

The next second, I heard footsteps approach, and before I knew it a chair pulled out beside me and the next minute someone settled themselves into the seat beside me.

I didn't even need to look, to sense that it was her. I was practically hard-wired to sense her, a trait I used to find useful but now irritated me. Her smell was so specific – a light raspberry mixed with lavender. I refused to breathe it in, not wanting it to alter my judgment. I had to be strong, unyielding, and not crumble over a damn smell, no matter how good it was.

Plucking my phone from my bag, I busied myself by scrolling through my apps like I was actually occupied with something of interest. I kept my expression flat and bored, hoping she'd get the message.

Mia adjusted herself over and over uncomfortably on her seat, the weight of her eyes weighing on me heavily. I used to love how intense they felt, and how easily they were able to capture your attention, but not anymore. Now, they just felt distracting, and painful.

She cleared her throat softly, leaning forward a bit. It fanned more of her scent all around me which far from helped the situation.

"I don't blame you for ignoring me, I'd ignore me too" she started slowly, a slight shakiness in her voice. Still staring forward, my stomach twisted at the sound of her tone.

Ignore her, Ethan, ignore.

"I just want you to know I'm so, so sorry, Ethan. I promise, I didn't mean any of the horrible things I said to you," she said, her voice cracking and her eyes dancing over mine desperately. I could feel each move they made.

I inhaled a sharp breath, still staring forward, my entire body rigid. I could feel myself wanting to look at her, meet my eyes with her own but I didn't. I wouldn't allow myself to.

I wasn't stupid. I knew she hadn't truly meant the cruel words she'd said that day – it was obvious. What upset me, was that she said those lies with the sole intention of getting a reaction out of me. To hurt me. That's the part I couldn't forgive.

Humming to myself, I pretended I had barely even been listening before fishing my earphones from my inside pocket and putting them into my ear.

Mia slowly looked away, her eyes falling to stare down at her desk in a way I didn't like. She's not a puppy, Ethan, she's not a damn puppy. Toughen up.

The teacher soon cleared her throat, indicating class was about to start. I looked all around, blinking in surprise as I realized the whole class was now full of students without me even noticing. Great, even when I don't like her, Mia still finds ways to distract me.

It was thirty minutes into class, and I was on edge, wondering how much more I could take. I was barely concentrating, and if someone asked me what this class was about, I wouldn't have a clue what to say.

Why? Mia would not stop staring at me. Every five minutes, or so, her eyes would wander away from the board, and I'd feel her staring at me. I never was stupid enough to look back, but it was damn distracting that's for sure.

Her eyes were just so big, brown, and well Mia's, and when you've trained half your life to get excited by a certain pair of eyes, it's kind of hard just to turn that off.

Jotting down some numbers from the problem that we were supposed to be doing from the textbook, I suddenly felt movement beside me. "Psst...Ethan," A voice whispered.

I stiffened immediately, knowing exactly who that voice belonged to. Ignore her, Ethan, ignore.

"Ethan," Mia whispered slightly louder this time, and before I knew it a scrap of scrunched paper suddenly slapped the side of my cheek.

This certainly caught my attention, and I turned to glare at her with a scowl. Annoyingly, her eyes were all cutely wide, and her lips were pulled into a wince as though she hadn't meant to hit me on purpose.

"What?" I whispered back, annoyed.

She blinked back at me softly, in a way that made me furious at how cute it was. She shouldn't be cute; I wouldn't allow it.

"Can I borrow an eraser?" she asked softly.

My eyes jumped between hers wanting a pathetic chance to properly look at her before I let my eyes fall to the pencil case on her desk.

I could see an eraser sticking out the top right corner of the case, proving she was lying. Returning my eyes to hers, I saw a spark of determination lighting them, one that told me she wasn't giving up.

I soon let out a heavy sigh before fishing the eraser out of my pencil case and throwing it over to her desk. The quicker I gave it to her, the quicker the interaction would end.

"Thanks," she whispered with a smile.

I sharply looked away at the sight of her smile, not wanting to feel the flutters or any of the stupid things it used to make me feel.

I was going to train myself to not feel anything when I looked at her - all I needed was repetition and persistence.

A couple minutes went by of peace, no Mia-induced heart attacks, or paper slapping me across the cheek just peace. That's when I heard the sharp rip of paper towards the right side of me.

Oh, this couldn't be good....

Soon enough, a piece of paper whizzed past my face and landed neatly on the desk in front of me. Oh now, she could throw. My jaw tightened as I stared down at the paper, not liking the way it made me feel.

It transported me back to the time when we were twelve, and the very first time she'd thrown me a note. A love note – that's what Lucas had teasingly called it at the time. I hated the warmth that spread through my body at the memory, at the note, and because of her.

I let out a heavy sigh before turning and shooting a guarded look her way. Mia just smiled back, unhelpfully, and nodded for me to open it like that all those years ago.

I tried to stay strong, I really did, but transported in time, my hands picked up the note and started unfolding it before I had the sense to stop.

My eyes danced over the crumpled paper, the second it was open. She'd written: 'Do you play Soccer? Because you're a keeper.'

The corner of my lips twitched upward on one side, my heart warming a little. Was she trying to flirt with me?

The warmth suddenly left as quick as it came, realizing what I was doing. I was letting myself get weak for her, I shouldn't give a shit whether she was flirting with me. You don't like her anymore, remember? She hurt you, she's not innocent.

Catching her eye, I saw her eyes shining brightly with hope as she watched me. Realising I needed to fix things and fast, I turned to her with a smile, her note held up visible.

Just as her lips started to lift, I dropped my smile and started ripping her note into shreds with an emotionless look in my eyes. I ripped it over and over, viciously, and left the remains of what she wrote on my desk.

She recoiled back, the look in her eyes hauntingly sad. This time she did genuinely look like a kicked puppy. My stomach twisted painfully, regretfully.

She did this to you too Ethan. She did this but worse. The words didn't do much to ease the growing pit that was starting to grow in my stomach. Guilt.

Mia soon turned away, continuing with her work. Well, I thought it worked. A second later, I heard that all too familiar rip of paper from beside me.

I heard a scrunch and the next minute; it flew over toward me and landed neatly on my desk. Since, when was she so fucking good at aim.

I looked down at the paper, and knowing what I had to do next to keep myself unaffected by her words, I flew my hand up in the air, to get the attention of the teacher.

Our teacher locked eyes with me with a curious smile. "Yes, Ethan, is something wrong?"

"Yes, there is actually. Mia keeps trying to distract me by throwing notes at me," I said loudly, and clearly for the whole class to hear.

Mia immediately stiffened in place, and from the corner of my eye, I saw her start to sink lower in her seat. Her eyes were as wide as I'd ever seen them and she was looking me up and down with 'what the fuck, are you doing' eyes.

Our teacher's eyes gleamed, seeming to take a weird kick out of this, and she marched her way quickly toward me before snatching the note from my desk.

Not expecting her to do that, my eyes widened.

"I'm sure we'd all like to hear what it says," the teacher said as she turned to look over at Mia with a far too smug-looking smile.

Everyone in the room had now turned to look at her, and I sat stiffly still, suddenly having second thoughts about putting my hand up. I was expecting her to tell Mia to stop throwing notes sure, not this.

Mia's eyes flew open wide, her cheeks taking on a more aggressive shade of red. "I don't think that's necessary, it's private," she stammered quickly, her voice panicked.

Ignoring her, the teacher cleared her throat and unfolded the paper quickly. "It says damn if being sexy was a crime, you'd be guilty as charged."

She read it clearly and loudly, so loudly that no doubt people in several classrooms over could hear.

The whole class immediately burst into laughter, some shaking softly and some hooting and clapping. Mia sank lower and lower in her chair, no doubt wanting the earth to take her away. And who could blame her? She'd just announced how sexy she thought I was to the entire class. A prideful smugness ran through me.

Picking up my pen, I turned innocently back to work. Well as innocently as I could while the corners of my lips were tugged up into a small smile.

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Author's note:

 Super weird to write Ethan this way, what do you guys think of him in this phase?

Not going to lie when I got through these chapters, it always puts me on edge because the amount of extreme anger directed at Mia during these chapters on my original book genuinely scares me. I know deep down the reason it upsets me so much is because I genuinely believe that the reaction wouldn't have been so vile and crazy if Mia was written as a good-looking boy. 

But anyway, moving on from the sad note, hope you enjoyed xx

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