Chapter 131: Chapter 131

The bell for first period had already rung by the time I finally slunk into the classroom, keeping my eyes glued to the floor. Luckily, the teacher was busy writing on the whiteboard and didn't look up as I hurried to the very back corner, sliding into the last desk. I pulled my oversized graphic shirt down as far as it would go, practically trying to sink into the plastic chair.

My binder was still locked inside my locker, so I just sat there with my hands tucked deep into the pockets of my baggy jeans, staring blankly at the chalkboard.

Then, the door opened again.

I didn't even have to look up to know who it was. The faint scent of vanilla drifted through the rows a second before she appeared. Betty walked in, whispering a quick apology to the teacher, and started scanning the room for an empty seat.

My heart did that familiar, violent squeeze. Please don't look back here, I prayed, pulling my chin down into the collar of my shirt. Please don't see me.

There were only two empty desks left. One was right in the middle row, and the other was directly in front of mine. Betty hesitated for a split second, her eyes sweeping over the back of the room. When her gaze landed on me, her eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise.

I immediately looked down at my shoes, my face burning so hot I was sure it was bright red.

I heard the soft thud of her backpack hitting the floor right in front of me. She chose the desk directly ahead. As she sat down, she turned around completely in her seat, looking straight at me. Her expression wasn't angry or mean; she just looked genuinely worried.

"Isabella," she whispered softly, leaning over the back of her chair. "Are you okay? Why did you run away earlier?"

I couldn't breathe. My hands clenched into tight fists inside my pockets. The teacher's voice was droning on about algebra, but it just sounded like static in my ears. I opened my mouth to speak, to make up some kind of lie about feeling sick, but the words got completely stuck in my throat. I just shook my head quickly, unable to form a single syllable.

Betty sighed softly, a look of disappointment crossing her features before she slowly turned back around to face the front.

For the next twenty minutes, the class was absolute torture.

I couldn't look away from her. No matter how hard I tried to focus on the equations on the board, my eyes kept drifting right back to the back of Betty's head. I watched the soft, stray hairs that had escaped her messy bun, resting gently against the nape of her neck. I watched the way her shoulders moved every time she took notes, her pencil scratching lightly against the paper. She was right there, so close I could have reached out and touched her arm.

But the space between us felt like a million miles. And then, a heavy weight settled in my stomach. I remembered the other girl from the hallway. The way they had been leaning into each other, gisting and laughing.

She has someone, I reminded myself, the thought cutting through me like a knife. She’s happy. And you’re just the weird girl who runs away from her.

Suddenly, the air in the classroom felt completely unbreathable. The walls felt like they were closing in on me, suffocating me inside my own heavy clothes. My chest tightened so hard it actually hurt, and a hot prickle of tears began to sting behind my eyes. I couldn't sit here anymore. I couldn't keep staring at the back of her head, feeling this crushing weight.

Without thinking, I abruptly stood up from my desk. The legs of my chair scraped loudly against the linoleum floor, making half the class turn around to look.

"Isabella?" the teacher stopped mid-sentence, looking over his glasses at me. "Is there a problem?"

"I... I need to use the restroom," I blurted out, my voice cracking slightly. I didn't even wait for him to hand me the hall pass.

I grabbed my backpack, threw the strap over my shoulder, and rushed out of the classroom before anyone could say another word. As the heavy wooden door clicked shut behind me, I caught a glimpse of Betty turning around in her seat, her wide, worried eyes tracking me until the very last second.

I burst into the empty hallway and ran, the fabric of my baggy jeans swishing loudly against the silence as I searched for somewhere to hide.

I burst into the girl’s bathroom, the heavy door swinging shut behind me and cutting off the quiet of the hallway. The room was empty, smelling faintly of bleach and cheap liquid soap. I practically threw my backpack onto the floor and leaned heavily over the row of sinks, my hands gripping the damp porcelain to keep myself steady.

My reflection in the mirror was a total mess. My hair was wild, my eyes were wide and red-rimmed, and my face was flushed a dark, burning crimson.

I turned on the tap, letting the freezing water run over my trembling fingers before cupping it and splashing it directly onto my face. The cold shock cleared the fog in my brain for a split second, but the heavy weight in my chest remained. I grabbed a rough brown paper towel, tapping my skin dry as I stared back at myself in the glass.

I am so fucked, I thought, my forehead dropping against the cool surface of the mirror. I’m completely, totally fucked.

CLICK.

The sound of the bathroom door unlocking made me snap my head up. My heart stopped completely as the door swung open.

Betty walked in.

She didn't look around the room; her eyes locked straight onto me the exact second she stepped inside. She let the heavy door close behind her, the latch clicking into place with a definitive finality that made the small bathroom feel like a trap.

"Isabella," she said softly, taking a slow step forward.

Panic exploded in my veins. My body reacted before my brain could even process it, my sneakers squeaking against the wet tile as I instinctively moved back, stepping away from the sinks until the small of my back hit the hard edge of the paper towel dispenser. I was completely cornered.

Betty didn't stop. She kept moving closer, her steps slow, unhurried, and completely deliberate. The space between us shrank until I could smell that sweet, intoxicating vanilla perfume again, wrapping around me and making me dizzy. She stopped just inches away from me, so close that if I breathed in too hard, my oversized t-shirt would brush against hers.

She looked up at me through her lashes, her messy bun slightly coming undone, her usual confident posture completely gone. Instead, her lips trembled just a fraction, and her bright eyes searched my face with a raw intensity that made my knees go weak.

She reached out, her fingers gently catching the edge of my oversized sleeve, anchoring me there.

"Tell me," Betty asked, her voice dropping into a soft, desperate whisper that echoed off the tiled walls. "Do you hate me... or do you want me as much as I want you?"