Chapter 20 Aslan
Aslan
The last few days, I hadn’t felt like myself. My body was sluggish, my head constantly heavy, and my chest kept giving me subtle warnings—tightness, skipped beats, that faint dizziness that came and went whenever I stood up too fast. My blood pressure felt low. My energy stayed low. Every step reminded me I wasn’t built for recklessness.
Saturday night had taken a toll, and I couldn’t pull another one like this again.
Every time I pushed too hard, every time I ignored the signs, my body punished me for it. My heart didn’t care that I was trying to prove something. It didn’t care about pride, or fear, or rage. It only cared about survival.
So I kept to myself. Not just avoiding Garrett William—avoiding everyone.
I skipped every social gathering, stayed quiet, and focused on the basics: sleep, classes, meds, work. No drama. No chaos. No running. No adrenaline. That was the plan.
The news had spread by Monday night that Garrett had crashed his car.
At first, I’d been alarmed. My thoughts spiraled, my heart taking yet another jolt. Then I heard he was fine and remembered who he was.
Garrett didn’t crash because he was unlucky or a victim of some unexpected circumstance. He crashed because he was reckless.
That night, he’d wrecked me and watched me leave that club shaken, out of breath, barely holding it together—then he’d gotten drunk out of anger and climbed into a car.
I couldn’t stop thinking about it. How dangerous you had to be to treat other people’s lives as collateral damage…. But mine wouldn’t be one of them.
The faculty nurse—who already knew about my condition—had excused me from gym and self-defense until my heart rate stabilized. Relief didn’t even begin to cover it. For several reasons.
The main one being: it kept me away from Garrett William.
Of course, the second he saw me sitting out, he decided to turn it into his personal entertainment.
It wasn’t even what he said at first.
It was his presence. That irritating gravity he carried, the way my body reacted before my brain could shut it down.
The memory of his face close to mine that night—his mouth, his scent, the heat of his skin—hit me like a flashback I didn’t ask for. My hands started trembling against my thighs, my pulse creeping up again, my heart reminding me that we were not on safe ground.
For fuck’s sake...
You’ve survived real assault. Real fear. Real monsters.
This asshole is child’s play.
Get a grip.
So I got permission to leave class and took off.
Safe and away… Until he followed me.
He caught up in the hallway and cornered me by my locker, blocking my escape like he owned the damn corridor.
I took a slow breath.
If he wanted trouble, he was going to get it.
“Why are you following me?” I snapped.
“Why did you skip class?”
“I had stomach cramps.”
“Like last time?” His eyes narrowed. “Bullshit. Why did you skip class?”
“Why did you fucking follow me?” I repeated, stepping closer until we were an inch apart.
His lip curled. “Because you were fucking ignoring me.” He mocked me.
That did it.
Something inside me snapped clean in half.
“What do you want from me, dude?” I exploded. “You obviously hate me—you made it clear that night. You want me away from you, so I’m staying the hell away, but that’s not enough for you!” My chest tightened. My voice turned sharp, dangerous. “I’m not leaving, Garrett. I’m staying.”
He stared at me, breathing hard.
I wasn’t done.
“And I don’t give a shit if you want to threaten me or hurt me,” I said. “But the next time you try to make my life miserable, do it sober—so you don’t risk anyone else’s!”
His expression twisted. He shoved me back against the lockers so hard the metal rattled. My shoulder stung.
“That’s not what I was doing,” he growled. “It was an accident—I didn’t mean to—”
“You didn’t mean to?” I laughed bitterly. “Just like you didn’t mean to break me that night? Or shove me around? Or humiliate me?”
My heart kicked harder—too hard. Tears threatened.
Don’t you dare. Keep it together… He doesn’t get your grief twice.
“You’re not just cruel,” I hissed. “You’re reckless. Unsafe. And you care about no one but yourself.”
Garrett’s fists clenched at his sides.
“I was looking for you,” he snapped, voice breaking through the rage.
I froze.
My throat went tight. “What?”
“I had a damn drink,” he said, eyes burning with something I couldn’t name, “but then I left. I went to get you.” His jaw flexed like the confession tasted like blood. “I was looking for you.”
My mind went blank for a second.
“Why?” My voice came out smaller than I wanted. “You’re the one who sent me away. Why did you—?”
“Because it was dark,” he cut in, furious at himself, furious at me, furious at the world. “Because you were drunk.” His voice dropped. “I wanted you gone… not fucking dead.”
A laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it.
I covered my face with my hand, shaking my head. “So instead you drove off and almost died yourself.”
I looked up again, my voice turning hard. “That was goddamn stupid. Like everything you do.”
His eyes narrowed. “It was.” His mouth twisted. “You’re like a fucking disease. Bring the worst out of me.”
Silence slammed down between us and my brain spun at a thousand miles an hour.
He’d tried to find me.
That night, he hadn’t just left. He hadn’t just gone back inside and forgotten me. He’d gotten behind the wheel and searched.
Stupidly. Recklessly. Like an idiot.
But he’d searched.
Our eyes locked for one charged moment—too intense, too real—before he looked away like it burned.
He turned, ready to leave before my thoughts could catch up with my mouth.
“Hey,” I called.
He stopped without turning fully.
I swallowed. “I’ve had a bad cold the last couple of days,” I said, forcing the words out like it didn’t matter. “Been feeling kind of sick. That’s why I missed practice.”
Garrett’s shoulders went rigid, then he gave the smallest nod, with all the softness he could afford.
“Take care,” he muttered. “Narnia boy.”
And he walked away.
I had no idea what had just happened, but I had no time to stop and think about it through the butterflies in my stomach and shivers along my spine.
This evening ahead was gonna be calm and mine.
I had my shift at the library—safe, familiar—then, after that, I had a recital to attend.
What could possibly go wrong with that?