Playlist for this chapter:

"And I hope you know, you never left my head." - Sorry by Sleeping With Sirens

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"Stells! Calm your tits down!" I tell her, voice almost drown by the din of happy students dismissed after the bell of the last class of the day and grasping her wrist before she's out of my reach.

She turns around revealing her full features to me, from the worry brown orbs to her amorous matt lips frowned across the face. I am positive down her under eyes lie 5 layers of full coverage concealer to hide the aftermath of her endless tears and midnight moping. "No Adeline, I can't calm my tits down. I'm firing. My mom is gonna flip her ass off if she goes back home to an almost wrecked living room. Oh lord, please kill me."

"Stella Ryder, you should–"

"No Adeline Wade." She holds her hand up, stopping me mid-sentence. "Ugh, I thought she won't be back home until tomorrow evening–"

"–breathe."

"–I'm so screwed. I think I'll be spending my second day of being single cleaning my mess to the melody of my mom's never-ending lecture about 'How to be responsible for your own good'. Sounds perfect."

This week may not be Stella's week.

Yesterday after school, she received an image on Whatsapp from an anonymous contact, of a very familiar guy with his mouth and hands all over this girl's face at a senior's party last week. I bet you all with my life that guy was her boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend James Allen. But of course, he had to deny it. Of course James had to sugar-coat himself from the havoc he thought wasn't going to come. Of course I had to ask Dean if she can join our ice cream date that night because James was too busy doing his "homework", he didn't have time to see her at all.

But Stella loved the foreshadowing. She's already seeing this ahead. She knew so much about his scandalous life that she's too afraid to believe it. 

Regardless of the amount of  love and pity I have for my best friend, I was the happiest person on earth when she called yesterday afternoon to vent about everything. You see, I can actually picture the two strangling each other on her sofa and then ten minutes later, she's already ravaging through the entire house-- TV remote and pillows flying around, plus all the possible actions you might encounter with if WW3 is bound to happen.

And that ugly red whack I saw marked on the terribly beautiful face during lunch today instantly made my day.

"Talk to her, she'll understand. I promise you."

"So easy for you to say."

"Just try."

She stomps on the corridor's floor so hard, that the sound grabs several passerby's attention. "No."

"You know what? Whatever you say. Just make sure to tie your shoe lace," I suggest, pointing my index finger on her untied adidas." Wouldn't it be a mayhem to have your ass flipped off at the school's parking lot before seeing your mom flip hers?" I wink and pat her on the shoulder, "Thank me later."

And I, Adeline Wade, earn the glare of the day.

I shrug. "Well, I love you and all Stells, but you always refuse every time I tell you to listen to your clever best friend. Your loss."

She bents down to tie them despite the mass of individual hastily moving around to wherever they're going. "Not today okay. I'll see you tomorrow I guess." She stands back up and sighs, also giving me the hug that's been my comfort for the past 8 years. "If I make it alive tonight."

"Your mom loves me. She wouldn't want to see me suffer at school alone."

"I figured."

"And if I do make it alive, the second I'm done cleaning my mess, I'll find that sleazeball and do you know what I'll do?"

"Uh, no?"

"Good because I'm about to tell you."

"Go ahead," I gesture.

"I will slice him into pieces and then juice those pieces."

I winced. "Ew! that's nasty."

"I like it nasty."

The next second, she's already rushing to the main door as an attempt to save her life. The brunette curls dangling over her half slung backpack on her shoulder. I sigh.

Reminiscing on the old days, Stella and I wouldn't have been friends if I didn't end up in detention at Mrs. Paula's room after punching a boy because him, being the stupid boy he is, ate my apple. And me, being the stereotypical girl I was 8 years ago, believed that boys are actually stupid I made sure to have a small note written on my diary that says:

!!! Warning !!!

Only be friends with girls because girls are smarter than boys.

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I drag my self through the sweaty packs of students as they make their way out from the corridor to the main door, slowly decreasing in numbers. Alas, my eyes are still locked at the end of the corner, right where my locker is located, all the way across the globe.

A huge thanks to my last name for voicing out my fate for the past 3 years. It's either a blessing because dear locker is located by one of the school's alternative exits that leads me directly to the parking lot but most times, its definitely a curse under breath because according to my past research, it takes about 76 hours to cross the globe non-stop and this is the closest proximity to my journey to the abode of my school necessities. 

But after all, my appreciation afternoon goes to the founder of shortcuts because who doesn't like it? Even the slightest idea of it tad bit hypes me. Bed and shower and food soon. Sounds really ideal for the hectic day it's caused me. Long story short, hectic day is actually every school day.

With the thought of home, I cross the remaining expanse in long strides until I reach my locker. The second I swing the steel door open, a pink rectangular object, thin enough to be slipped into the holes of the door, falls relentlessly to the ground. Afraid that anyone takes the thin object before me, I quickly stoop down, grabbing the loose object that is peculiarly an envelope.

But Valentine's day was 2 weeks ago?

I flip it over to the right-side up and see

To Adeline

inked on the top side by a fine-tip black sharpie, sloppy and almost illegible but still clear enough to be seen, the very familiar handwriting that I always see almost every single Monday as he helps me pass my slightly below average AP biology grade.

Right I haven't seen him at all today. Not even once.

How did I miss the goofy one, ever?

Standing still on the confining hallway, I rip the vertical edge of the envelope open, gliding the paper out, and unfolding it.

Dear Adeline,

I take a deep breath before continuing.

I know this is all too soon, but I just wanted to let you know that I'll be gone for while. Just for 3 months. The school offered me this really good football training scholarship in Philadelphia. I'm so sorry for not telling you about it earlier, but I swear to you that I didn't have the time and believe it or not I'm currently writing this in the toilet right now. But no matter how insane I might sound to you, you still love me right?? :) This won't be long, I will call and text you every single day. Or even every single second. Once again, I'm so sorry and I love you. I'll be back, Adeline. I promise

ps: I suck at writing formal letters

pss: I'm already missing you 

psss: This is the cheesiest shit I've ever written in my whole life

Love,

Dean Spence.

The rush of adrenaline is causing me to numb. The numbness after being ran over by a truck so fast that you completely don't remember how it feels like to get hit by one. This is how I'm feeling right now. It's the sudden panic attack again. But I'm not crying this time because the feeling is not foreign anymore. This scares me.

The paper still on the grip of my sweaty palms. Startled, I slam my locker door close, place the letter back into the envelope, disregarding the books I have to take home and barge out of the door on my left. Aware enough that I'm still in the school area, I sprint through the field of chattery students while pushing back the gut wrenching tears.

It frustrates me that I find it difficult to keep my shit together.

No big deal. Definitely a big deal.

Within every step I make, my tousled hair slightly covering a part of my face, a tear finally breaks, like a cloud that's been holding on for so long and it finally has the chance to down pour everything on the dry land. As it pours down, my vision is blurred and here I am still darting my way to destination.

Hadn't I have the time to remember to question my walking ability, when I suddenly find my body, in contact with a hard stud as my weight falls on the tough solid surface. I'm still not sure whether to thank the hard surface for saving me from the floor or to have accused a blame for being a barrier to my way.

"Watch where you're going, punk!" a voice yells, piercing each and every inch of my incautious body.

Shuddering in horror, I tilt my head up to see the source of the voice and I am greeted by a boy a couple of inches taller than me, slightly taller than Dean. My head starts to spin after the collision of my temple with his chest.

But I've talked to him before. I just can't remember when.

My head feels heavy. Heavy in pain. Heavy in questions.

Irritation crosses his aggressive face, masked in sweat, along his neck. His damp as-brown is awfully made. I study his— my surrounding. Then back at him. Also realising the amount of eyes watching me. His friends.

The thought of Dean suddenly strikes back my dull mind, and I paid no attention to my situation that I'm fazed back to the reality with my gaze still up on the individual in front of me. "What?" he asks, annoyance blending in his voice.

I want to run away, and when I have that in mind, I try making an attempt. But his hands are still on my arms, holding me. I abruptly push them away. "Don't touch me."

He didn't seem to take in what I just said. Instead, he moves one of his hands up my shoulder and leans down closer to my ear. "Next time, make sure you use your eyes to walk properly."

Before causing another scene, I quickly wipe my tears with the back of my hand, as I try to find my balance back on the ground and push him completely off of me. And then I walk away.

Laughters echo my ears, sending more pulse to my nerves because I know I'm the clown now. The sound of chuckles slowly faints as I make new steps away from them, but not too far when I hear one asks, "Isn't that Dean's girl?"

This is not the right time. Adeline Wade, please hold your shit together. The last thing you need right now is more of those gruesome glare.

I dig my bag, quickly searching for the car key, and hurry to where my brother's black Audi is parked.

As soon as I reach the car, I wasted no time to unlock it then hopping in the driver's seat and throwing my bag pack to the back seat. The mass of eyes locked on the side of my face gets heavier each second. The oppressing pain is unbearable. I feel the attention that I don't need. Whether it is pity or shame, I don't like it. I never did.

Putting the key into the ignition and bringing my car back to life, I finally let down another single tear from my other eye. I wipe it as it streams down my cheek, stealing a quick look over the guy outside the window through my hazy vision.

And then I remember him. The guy.

Devin. Devin Kyle.

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A massive thank you for reading this and ofc to those who have voted! I really appreciate it! I promise you guys a lot of promises coming up, so stay tune as each chapter gets more and more interesting! I hope you're enjoying it so far and it'd be great to hear back from you guys by commenting below. And vote vote vote if you enjoy it!

Thank you and have a lovely day!

Ps. Let me know if you're #TeamDean or #TeamDevin in the comment box below!!!

-LDAI xx