Weeks upon weeks past until I finally decided that I should go back to school. I prepared myself mentally for a bombardment of questions and seeing Elliott, who never did answer that text message.

I didn't know whether he just never planned to speak to me again after I left or if I'd done something to upset him, but I knew that I was going to try to speak to him when I saw him again.

I strolled to the school I'd been going to for about six years. I was in my final two but I was bored of the hellhole anyway, especially considering some of the students.

Take Ella, for example. She was your typical popular girl with a wide circle of friends and it wasn't that she was exactly horrible to anyone's face, you'd just hear her badmouthing all of her friends behind their backs. I began to imagine some of the snide comments she'd probably made about people who weren't her friends (like me) and I was quick to distract myself from the thoughts of my fellow pupils.

My eyes scanned the dull hall for anyone I knew. I didn't even see Seth, which was unusual because it was a habit of his to wait outside my locker. He was always there.

I looked around as I put my books in my bag. No one. I'd always felt anxious when I was on my own but this was incomparable to those moments. Crowding around me was a group of students who were yelling all sorts of questions at me.

The one that really set me off was, "How's your mum? Oh wait, she's dead!"

I expected this. I knew it would happen. I felt a fire raging in my stomach, begging to come out and spit unkind profanities at these students but I resisted it. I just hung my head low and waited for a teacher to notice the commotion.

The sea of pupils wasn't stopped by a teacher, though. I saw a boy with dark brown hair and green eyes clouding my vision of the idiots before me. I knew who it was instantly - Elliott.

"Get lost," he growled to them all. I'd never seen Elliott outside of lessons so I had no idea whether he was seen as authoritative or just damn terrifying, but the crowd scattered almost instantly.

I looked up at him from under my lashes. He was looking down at me disappointedly.

"That meant nothing," he hissed before storming away.

I frowned. What happened? I had no idea. I didn't know what I'd done or whether I'd done anything at all.

My worries dispersed as Seth strolled up to me, his brown eyes trained to me. He smiled instantly, throwing an arm around my shoulder.

"How're you doing?" He asked casually, "I briefly saw what just happened. I'm sorry, I was outside-"

"It's fine, Elliott helped me," I told him quickly before he could apologise even more. He furrowed his brows.

"Elliott?"

"Yeah, Elliott," I confirmed, "He's in our English class. He's the son of the other family that were involved in the..."

Seth embraced me quickly as he saw my eyes beginning to tear up, "I remember now."

He pulled away slightly and evaluated my features. I had managed to blink away the tears and that made him grin.

"It's Art first, right?" I asked and Seth nodded happily. In our final two years, we only got to pick three topics. It just so happened that both Seth and I picked English, Art and Science.

We headed to Art together. I didn't see Elliott on the way there but I was sort of glad, considering the way that he spoke to me before walking away.

Then it clicked.

"That phone call!" I yelled as we entered the classroom. The teacher gave me an odd look but I apologised quickly. No one else was in the class so Seth and I took our usual seats next to each other and began talking again. At least, I did, "You remember we heard a beep?"

"Yeah," Seth agreed. He was obviously confused.

"I think Elliott must've called me," I announced, "I think I accidentally answered. Maybe I butt-dialled it."

"We were talking about the incident being your fault - or not, on my behalf," Seth said quietly. He paused before talking again, "Wait, why does he have your number?"

I gulped, "I forgot to tell you. After the incident, the police wanted Elliott and I to spend the night together to ensure that neither of us did anything irrational."

"I see," Seth said, becoming quiet. I was a little confused but ignored his actions. He told me, "He's probably mad at you. Who wouldn't be?"

I scoffed, "I know I would be if I found out it was his fault that my mother died. Unfortunately for me, it wasn't."

Seth gave me a nervous smile. I could tell he was pitying me.

Lessons upon lesson went fast until we reached our very last period, English. I sighed audibly as we headed there.

"He's in our English class, isn't he?" Seth asked quietly. Of course, he was referring to Elliott. I nodded without agreeing vocally.

I saw him as soon as we got there. He stared at his desk, not even daring to look up as the door open. Luckily for me, the teacher entered moments after Seth and I.

"Hello, class," Mr Quentin greeted us. I answered him immediately, bidding him a good afternoon. Elliott's head snapped up ever so slightly. He made eye contact with me before facing his table a little too enthusiastically.

"He'll come around," Seth whispered in my ear. I shook my head but took my usual seat and worked like I always did.

I had no idea what to do. I knew exactly why Elliott was mad at me, but why it was bothering me so much was addling my brain.