I WOULD JUST LIKE TO ANNOUNCE THAT AS OF UPLOADING THIS CHAPTER THIS BOOK IS #29 IN ROMANCE RANKING. I'M SCREAMING - CAN YOU HEAR ME SCREAMING. !!!!!!!

I honestly can't believe that we're at chapter 30, like it's a little unreal. One, because omg I've written around 90,000 words which is crazy, and two, because I am nowhere near done with this book, or Elle and Trent or any of their story so oh lordy this may become a series who knows.

I LOVE YOU ALL.

We've hit 157K reads, 10.3K votes and 2K comments. that's mental!!!!

I want to apologise for the little break I took over Christmas - it wasn't intentional but working 6 days a week with extra hours was a lot and so I just wasn't in the place to write.

But one of my new years resolutions is to dedicate more time to this and I'm so excited to do it. Thank you so much for your continuous support and constant love.

Make sure to leave comments and vote! Although, I feel stupid even saying it anymore because of course you guys will xxxxx

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Chapter 30

Mrs Howard's lessons are never boring, but for some reason, this one was particularly difficult to pay attention to.

Perhaps, it was because Kristie and Cole kept laughing at something between them every two minutes, or maybe I just wasn't a fan of The Crucible.

Or maybe it is because all I can think about is Trent.

"I would now like for you two discuss with your partners, the themes in this play and what the story revolves around in your own opinion."

I turn from Mrs Howard and look at Trent, clearing my throat as I open the book onto a page and pretend to scan the words, my breath held as I try to think of something to say.

"So I think that a theme in this book is honesty," I start but the noise that emulates from Trent's throat stops me, 'Something wrong?" I ask, an eyebrow raised and he watches me, eyes filled with humour.

"No, not at all. I just disagree." His shoulders shrug so easily that it almost annoys me and I frown at him.

"It is about honesty, it's about being true to yourself and being honest, no matter what the consequence is."

And sometimes being honest can be pretty difficult.

"Well the way I see it, is that the whole story revolves around survival."

Arms flexing as he sits back in his chair I scrutinize him, waiting for an explanation but he remains silent, a small smirk on his lips.

"What's with the wolf tattoo on your back?"

The question leaves my lips without me even realising and what I've said only registers when Trent's smirk drops and he looks at me with eyes that pin me to my seat.

"What?"

His voice is low as if he is containing a growl and I feel myself sit back slightly, my hands twisting together as I try to grab a thought swirling around my head but it's as if they just keep slipping through my fingers and I'm frozen, blubbering, with nothing but air leaving my mouth.

Trent leans closer, his hand grabbing my chair and pulling me into him and he only stops when our chairs lightly clink together, our breath hitting each other.

"Why did you ask that?" he asks, whispering and my heart feels like it is about to pounce through my chest and run to the other side of the room, "Elle, why did you ask about the tattoo?"

My eyes dart between his two golden ones, the light in them looking as though it's shining brighter as he asks me.

Luminescent lights.

"I-I don't know," I stutter out, still trying to figure out myself why I said anything.

He doesn't move after I answer, instead, his hand holding my chair clenches and I can hear the squeak of material as he does, his jaw tightening.

"But why won't you answer?"

The question hangs in the air between us and his eyes widen in surprise, his body frozen.

He is now the one to be lost for words and I watch him carefully, trying to figure out what is going on inside of his head but it's almost impossible, his face is like a statue, his eyes don't even flicker as he stares at me and I feel myself lean into him, being pulled in by the feeling I constantly have around him, of wanting, of longing.

What was he hiding?

"Miss Williams, Mr Night, would you care to share your views with the class."

Mrs Howard's voice snaps me out of the trance that Trent always seems to put me in and I pull back from him, turning to look at the rest of the class who I now realise are watching us with curious expressions on their faces.

A few chuckles dot around the room and Cole and Kristie look like they're trying to maintain their laughter but my eyes are on the older lady at the front of the room, an expectant but stern frown waiting.

"Of course," I begin, clearing my throat again as I clasp my hands together and scoot away from Trent, pretending to look at my book, "we were just discussing how we have differing views."

Mrs Howard nods, taking a seat at her desk, motioning for me to continue and I take a shaky breath.

"Well, I think that the base of this play is honesty. The whole conflict in the plot is over people being honest and not, of people believing honesty and not, about being honest with yourself and staying true to yourself over lying to protect yourself and those around you. It's about what you think of yourself at it's purest form. If people were to believe Abigail then it would be whether she believes herself or not, whether people could convince themselves of a fake honesty or make themselves believe that they are honest. John Proctors entire death is around the fact that he would not lie, he would not damn himself and therefore he died for it. At the root of all things, honesty is the key."

I almost laugh at how relatable my words are, my mind replaying all the moments I'd been untrue to those around me, the way I'd lied to prevent myself from ever knowing the truth, to stop myself from understanding.

"To lie to yourself can be easy if you really want to believe something, you can pretty much convince yourself of anything, but convincing other people around you can be the tricky part. Or I suppose it can be the other way around too. Honesty is a gift that you really only share with certain people. To be honest is to be true, to yourself and to those around you."

I take a huge breath after speaking, my anxiety fading as I look up, realising what I've just said and I feel the blush rising on my cheeks, embarrassed by how much I've shared.

Mrs Howard nods at me, thinking over my answer as we both look at Trent, who surprisingly is staring at me, his brows creased, his eyes glittering with questions.

"And Mr Night, what was your opinion?"

Trent frowns a little more, as though he is battling with something within himself as he turns and faces the front of the class, his eyes cast down at his book.

"Survival."

His voice is low, rumbling with something under the surface but it's strong, so strong that the few people whispering among themselves on the desk across the room from us still, silence echoing.

"Survival is the most basic human function, to figure out how to survive, to act on natural instincts to survive. Sure, honesty is a key factor of the plot and an added theme, but honesty is down to survival."

His eyes glance at me and my breath catches in the power behind them.

"Why do we lie? Sure some people do it for fun, to annoy someone, to prank. But the most common? To protect ourselves or someone around us, to survive. We lie to hide which we think others won't like, won't accept. We lie to hide the things about us that wouldn't be wanted so that we can survive so that we can live in the best way that we can."

He breaks eye contact with me and turns away and my chest heaves, as though I can finally breathe again.

"Survival drove most of the characters to confess to witchcraft, John fought against his instincts for survival and stayed true to himself, in order to also help his family be able to survive. No matter which way you look at it the answer is survival."

"I'm very impressed with both of those answers," Mrs Howard comments, "you're both correct however there is a theme you both missed. Irony."

I frown at her words.

Irony?

"The whole play is based around a town attempting to get rid of witches, the irony is that there were actually no witches whatsoever and that the people they were trying to protect are exactly the people that they ended up killing - the good people who stayed honest. Those who chose to survive and lie were often the ones who were responsible for killing the innocent. The irony of the whole thing is that if everyone had stayed true to themselves if they'd been honest, they all would have survived. The whole thing would never have started in the beginning. When Elizabeth is called forward to vouch for John, not knowing that he has already confessed to adultery and just needs to her to confirm it to prove that she is always honest, she does the opposite; she lies, and that is the reason that John is hung - because Elizabeth lies, thinking it will protect him but instead she seals his fate. If John had been honest with her from the beginning, if they'd continued to be honest with each other and she had accepted him for everything he was and told him that, then maybe she would have said the truth and saved him. Ironic isn't it."

She turns back to the board and begins to write on it, explaining another theme in the book but my mind isn't concentrating, instead it's circling through her words, trying to grasp exactly what she's said but all I can do is stare at the boy next to me, who seems to be deep in thought about something and his face, for the first time, shows a small bit of what I swear is fear.

Cole turns around and glances at me before leaning back on his chair, his hand grabbing Trent's arm on the table and snapping him out of the black hole his mind seemed to be in.

"Don't think about it right now," Cole whispers but I hear him, his words making the itch on my skin even stronger and I just want to scream at the frustration I feel by not knowing what they're talking about, "Now isn't the place."

His eyes glance at me again and I pout at him, an apologetic smile is his response before he goes back to his table and begins writing.

I, meanwhile, try to focus on not staring, yet again, at the beautiful man beside me who hasn't so much as glanced in my direction but seems to just be rewriting the same thing over and over again on his book, not paying attention.

"Trent," I whisper but he doesn't look at me, the only sign of him hearing me is the way his pencil falters and the tip snaps off, "Trent."

Without saying anything, he stands up abruptly and grabs his bag, shoving his things into it so quickly that I barely have time to register what's happening before he's leaving the room, Mrs Howard's words falling on deaf ears.

Oh hell no, he does not just get to run away.

I stand up without even thinking, grabbing my books and when I glance at Trent's chair I see his jacket still hanging over the back of it and pick it up.

"And where are you going, Miss Williams?" Mrs Howard asks, an accusing tone laced with her words and I hold up Trent's jacket as I file through the desks and to the door.

"He forgot his jacket?" I offer, knowing it's not valid but I don't wait for a reply before I'm out of the room and into the corridor, the gasps of students inside the class cutting off as I shut the door.

I glance up and down the corridors, looking for a sign of a six foot four angry hunk marching down them but he's nowhere to be seen and it's only when I hear the echo of the main door slamming that I know where he is.

Outside.

I run down the hall, quickly heading for the doors, eyes watching for any teachers but I'm lucky and I slip out of them without so much as someone seeing me.

When I'm outside I quickly cover my eyes with my arm, blocking out the sun as I try to see his figure and I spot him, yards away on one of the main playing fields and I head in his direction, my feet pounding on the concrete that suddenly changes to grass.

"Trent!" I yell, making him halt to a stop and he turns around, shock on his face as I run at him, his feet bringing him closer to me.

"Elle? What are you doing, you should be in class," he urges, his hand running through his hair rapidly and clutching at the strands, something I'd come to realise he does when he's stressed.

"You left your jacket," I shrug, catching my breath as I hold it out to him and he looks at me as if I'm crazy.

"You left class and have risked getting in a lot of trouble, just to give me my jacket? After I stormed out of there ignoring you?" His face is coated in so much confusion that it makes me chuckle and I can't help but let it out, my voice light and that only seems to make him more confused.

I shrug in response.

"I wanted to see that you're okay, I don't know what happened in there but you helped me earlier so here I am."

Trent's expression softens as he looks at me, his feet stepping closer as his hand reaches up and cups the side of my cheek, a small smirk glistening onto his lips.

"You, mo chuisle, are by far one of the strangest creatures I have ever met," he watches my mouth part with a question, "It's Irish," he answers before I can ask and I roll my eyes.

"How is it that you know so many languages?" I ask, amusement in my words and he winks at me, making my heart almost stop.

"Maybe one day I'll tell you all my secrets."

His words make both our smiles falter as his fingers brush through the side of my hair and pin it behind my ear.

"Elle, there's so much I want to tell you," he whispers, a frown marring his perfect features and I step closer to him, my hands wrapping around his large one that holds me.

"Then tell me," I almost beg and he watches me, a debate igniting in his mind as his mouth twitches over words he tries to say before he takes a huge sigh and then straightens up. The air breathes around us.

"Okay, Elle I-"

"Well, well, well, what do we have here. If it isn't my most two favourite people in the world."

My whole body freezes as their voice drips into my ears, their words swirling around my mind.

The breeze is cold.

Ice cold.

Like the blue of his eyes.

"Matt," I swallow, my hands beginning to shake as I turn around and face the person before me, their smile like a knife in my stomach being wrenched in and out.

"Annabelle," he states, his eyes following my figure down to my feet, "You look like a mess, do you see what happens when you're not with me?"

I feel my heart rise in my throat.

"She looks beautiful, she's a hell of a lot better without you," Trent steps forward, his voice growling as he stands tall, his shoulders seeming to almost double in size and it's as if I can feel his shadow towering over me, "And I would advise that you turn around and walk away right now."

Matt's eyes widen as he glances at me and then Trent, his mouth turning up in amusement as he lets out a laugh, clapping his hands together, the sound making a shiver trail down my spine.

"Oh, this is so sweet," his laugh grows louder, "You think you have any right to tell me what to do, you," he steps forward, "a lower species."

Trent's chest vibrates with the insult and I quickly place my hand on it, stepping around him as I try to make him calm down, the last thing I wanted was for him to give Matt exactly what he wanted and get in trouble.

"Trent, let's just go," I whisper, pressing gently into him in an attempt to move him back but he's as solid as a rock and doesn't even budge, he only wraps one of his hands around my own and squeezes my fingers.

"Well, this is just adorable," he cackles, letting out a whistle, "I think this needs more of an audience, don't you think."

I turn and look at him, confusion sweeping over me but as he lets out another whistle the shadows that I hadn't previously seen lurking behind the main doors move and they swing open, revealing the only people I could imagine to be sad enough to stand and wait for Matt's orders.

The Three Muskateers.

My hand flies to my necklace as my other one grips Trent's hand behind my back and I squeeze both at the same, not sure what comfort either will give me right now.

"Hello, Anna," Carter sneers and I swallow the bile in my throat, "Beautiful day isn't it."

The other boys chuckle and I take a deep breath.

Do not let him scare you.

"Hi Carter, nice black eye."

The four men stop laughing and stare at me in shock, mouths wide as they watch me.

My eyes widen at the realisation of what I've said and I try to press down the butterflies threatening to fly out of my chest.

Behind me, Trent's chest vibrates a little but this time I can feel that it's not from anger and when I glance up at him I can see his mouth tight in an attempt to hold in laughter, his hand not occupied with my own shooting up to cover his mouth as he clears his throat.

"Sorry," he apologises to the boys, "tickle in my throat."

My glee at finally standing up to one of the insufferable boys quickly dies when I turn back to them and see the look of rage coating all of Matt's features, his tongue glinting along the edge of his lips.

"I think your girlfriend has lost her manners," Carter spits, making a move to step towards me but Matt's arm flies out and halts him.

"That's alright, Carter," he smiles, a slow grin spreading across his face, "We'll just have to teach her them again, isn't that right baby?"

Bile rises in my throat as he steps towards me but Trent is quicker than I am and quickly intercepts, his body hiding me like a shield against an attack and I clutch to his back, the comfort washing over me and as I cling to the chain around my neck and warmth comes over me, stopping my shaking hands and calming my breathing.

He really did help.

"I think you'll find she's not your 'baby' anymore," he tells Matt quietly, his voice barely audible, "And I'd watch how close you get, I'd hate for your arm to be lost in an accident."

"And I'd hate for you to try and walk away from me with my girl and my boys have to stop you, just unnecessary drama."

Trent makes another move to say something, no doubt much more violent, back but I step out and stop him, my eyes trained on the person who made my life hell for years as he stands and smirks at me, watching me get closer to him.

"If I'm your girl, then who is Tracey?"

The question comes from my lips so smoothly that I almost can't believe I've finally said it, but the change of everyone's expressions around me verifies that I have, in fact, just confronted him.

After a pause, he lets out a scoff and rolls his eyes.

"What do you mean, Who is Tracey? She's your friend, not mine." His chorus of idiots behind him all laugh along, their eyes glancing at each other but my own catch Carter's and I can see the panic in them as he sees me.

As he sees the determination in my eyes.

"She is not my friend," I state simply, causing them to silence, "A friend like her is something I would wish upon no one."

Matt rolls his eyes again and reaches out to me but I step back, crossing my arms over my chest.

"So tell me, Matt, if she's not my friend, then what is she?"

The air seems to shift at that moment as if something had turned the tables and for once it seemed like I could breathe clearly like for the first time my mind wasn't clouded by someone else's ideas and orders.

Was this what it was like to be free?

"I don't think I quite understand what you mean, Princess," he grits out through tight teeth and I take another step towards him, wanting to stare straight into his eyes as I finally asked him the question I'd waited to speak for what felt like a lifetime.

"Did you sleep with her?"

It seems as though even Matt is surprised that I've actually plucked up the courage to ask him the question, his eyes widening in response while my own close, a weight lifting off my shoulder.

That told me everything I needed to know.

"It's complicated Princess, alcohol, drugs, being away from you for so long-"

"So Carter wasn't lying, you did sleep with her on the boat trip."

I almost want to pat myself on the back for the horrified expression I make break out on Carter's face and Matt seems to take a second to understand what I've said.

"T-That's not what I said-" Carter tries to explain, his feet tumbling over themselves like his words, "I didn't tell her, Matt, I would never –"

"Shut up."

I almost flinch back at the venomous tone that the words leave Matt's lips but my feet stay steady and I don't hesitate in continuing.

I needed to get out of there before I broke down.

"I gave up everything for you and then I gave you everything, I spent years trying to make you happy, thinking that the whole time I was the issue, that maybe you were just going through something but knowing–"

I cut myself off, tears pooling in my eyes,

"I thought that at least I could trust you, that after everything I'd done for you, you would never even think to touch another girl even in our worst moments like I never did. But here you are. And here I am.

And I'm done."

My voice shakes at the end and I quickly step back, Trent's arm automatically finding my waist like a magnet that helps to steady me as he holds me up. The boys behind Matt have all shrunk down to a much smaller size than I once thought and are almost cowering behind their leader, who himself looks frozen in shock, as though his small mind is having difficulty in comprehending what's happening.

"I always deserved better than you."

Matt's eyes harden at my words, his jaw clenching as his face begins to turn red but I turn away, not wanting to spend another second looking at him.

"Let's go," I whisper to Trent who nods in agreement before turning us both around, removing the putrid view from my sights and I close my eyes, revelling in the new beginning I am about to take.

"You're not going anywhere," a voice rips through the peace I've just started to believe as a hand grabs onto my arm and yanks me away from Trent, spinning me around to face the face of outrage.

All the memories of his flying fists and hate-filled eyes fill my mind and all I can see is the horrible creature I had constantly protected from himself and in return destroyed myself and without even really thinking about it, my fist lifts and flies towards his face, my thoughts only about the anger filling me from what feels like my heart.

Unfortunately, he sees it coming and the hand not grabbing me lifts up and stops it in its track, his fingers tightly squeezing me as my fist hangs in the air between us.

"Try again, Princess," he sneers.

I don't know what would have happened at this moment, I do not know if I would have been punished, I do not know if I would have stood and screamed, but I don't even get a second to consider my options because before Matt can even take a breath after he speaks, he has disappeared from my view and is in a pile on the floor, the large smacking sound echoing around us.

I look up and see Trent standing, his chest rising up and down as he glares at the crumpled heap moaning below us in pain and an almost laugh leaves my mouth as I realise what's happened.

Trent punched Matt.

"I think we hit you that time, Princess," Trent mocks before eyeing up Matt's friends, "I wouldn't try anything boys, you've already seen what can happen." The wink Trent sends to Carter isn't missed and they take a step back, all instead running over to check on Matt who has pulled himself up from the ground as the bell behind them rings and people begin to appear in the windows.

It doesn't take long for someone to see us and I quickly grab Trent's hand as more people head for the doors out into the scene before me.

Trent turns to look at me and an almost euphoric feeling fills my entire being as he smiles down at me, a glint in his eyes that makes my heart race as he squeezes my hand back.

"Let's go, minha Deusa."

I take one last look at the person who I once loved crumpled on the floor and for the first time, I feel no pain, only sadness at the person I lost to him.

"Let's go," I grin and follow Trent as he begins to run across the parking lot, picking up our belongings on the way and I giggle as we stumble away from the growing crowd of people and into the fresh air, our laughter flitting around us like birds and for the first time in years;

I feel like I can fly.

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HA. HA. HA.

FINALLY.

FUCK YOU MATT.

That is all xxxxxxx