Chapter 23: CHAPTER 23

I wove through the halls with careful steps. The corridors were empty, silent except for the faint murmur of teachers lecturing behind closed doors.

Yesterday I searched these halls with no success. Today I was back, drawn again to the oldest part of the school often used for escapades: the west wing.

Even Theodore had once hooked up with a girl in one of the empty lecture rooms, a brave move given the tiny window in each door. But then again, he was the type who enjoyed the thrill of being caught.

As I turned another corner my steps slowed. The older wing was a maze, looping in itself until you lost all sense of direction. Hadn't I passed this hall already?

Then I heard it--a soft, distinctly feminine sound. It was muffled, barely audible through the door it emerged from, but unmistakable.

My feet softly padded forward. The closer I crept, the clearer the hush of voices became. I pressed my ear to the door and held my breath. Just one sentence.

That's all I needed to recognize who it was, but the moment I leaned in, the conversation ceased. My heart accelerated, nmy breathing shallow, yet no one spoke from the other side.

Then, I heard it.

The voice of the girl.

"Someone's behind the door," she whispered.

My mouth fell open, and that's when I realized the mistake I'd made. The hallway was lit, but the closet wasn't. Any idiot standing too close would cast a perfect shadow beneath the crack of the door.

Unfortunately, that idiot was me.

"Crap." I stepped back as quickly as I could. Hilary was right. That door really was a tattletale.

I didn't want to be caught by that girl, and definitely not by Cross snooping into his business. My stomach dropped when I heard the knob turn, dread flooding my chest. This is worse than walking in on your friend having sex. At least that would've been accidental. This was intentional.

Suddenly, a manicured hand shot out from thin air and yanked me to an alcove. Hilary. She pressed a finger to her lips, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

She signaled beyond the wall blocking us, seeming to say, don't you want to see?

But I didn't have to. I heard her before I saw her: toned legs, sleek hair, shoulders tense with restrained emotion.

Amy.

I squinted, disbelieving as I saw her impatiently tap her foot for the other person to exit. I knew to expect him. I did. Yet, my throat constricted as a familiar strong outline joined the hallway. He was well put together, but her top was crumpled with a bra strap still hanging down. It was enough to give away what they'd been doing in there.

I think I like you.

Liar.

He didn't like me at all. I was just another game, and this -this really hurt. Of all the people to mess with, why me? Why waste effort when he had a line of girls waiting for a chance to be with him? Why when he's supposed to be my friend? I didn't ask for this. I never begged for his attention. Didn't he notice how careful I was around him?

No long hugs.

No lingering touches. No flirting. No late texts. I've done everything to keep things neutral so he could feel safe having a female friend that didn't cross boundaries.

"You don't have to wait for me. We're going separate ways." His words carried double meaning, laced with such cold detachment I would've never thought they did anything if it weren't for the evidence in front of me.

Amy went still. Deathly calm. It was that brittle mask she wore to pretend she was fine, right before she mentally broke in private. "I hate you," she whispered. Her voice trembled with effort to keep tears at bay. "You're disgusting. I'll never forgive you for this."

Cross sighed. Then he turned and walked away, snapping the tenuous hold she had on her emotions and unleashing a slew of tears.

The moment he disappeared down the hall, her restrain shattered. "I hate you!" she screamed, the sound clawing at the lockers, raw and jagged as the heartbreak behind it.

Amy slightly swayed, trying to gather what was left of herself before storming to the nearest bathroom.

Black streaks of mascara traced her cheeks like scars.

Cross must've ended things after getting his fix. No wonder Amy had been so competitive the other day, enough to make that ridiculous dare of "whoever sleeps with him first". She would've easily won. Not that she'd be getting anything from him now.

Hilary voice drew me back. "Remember what I said. Don't let her use your phone."

I nodded silently and slipped back toward my classroom. A swirl of emotions rushed through me, the sharpest of all being betrayal. My crush on Cross was my best kept secret. No one knew. It was buried deep in hopes that one day the useless feeling would go away. I prided myself in keeping it that way, repeating the same mantra whenever the feelings stirred: he doesn't like me. I'm not his type. It was the wall that kept me safe from foolish

daydreams.

With all these efforts put into place, he didn't need to lie to me. For a moment, I'd actually been conflicted.

Wondering if Cross truly developed something after our interaction in the closet. If perhaps his rudeness with Jacob was fueled by something other than overprotectiveness and a need for control.

But now...now I felt something like release. There was no need to battle with conflicting thoughts. The truth was clear: Cross didn't like me.

And I was determined to be fine with that.