36

                                    

                                          
  "Okay. Let's talk." 
                          
"Thank you." Blake softly smiles. 
                          
He starts to walk away, probably wanting me to follow. So I do. 
                          
He leads me to a secluded area, where no eyes would be on us. 
                          
I look up at him, his bright eyes resembling a turquoise ocean. 
                          
"What?" I accidentally ask rudely. 
                          
"Why won't you even look at me?" He sadly questions. 
                          
"I am looking at you." My attitude gets worse. 
                          
"No, I mean at school. You won't look at me. Every time I pass by you, you look away." 
                          
Does he not remember everything that happened yesterday? 
                          
"This is why you wanted to talk...because I wouldn't look at you?" I start to get frustrated. 
                          
"No, there's more to this, I promise." 
                          
Promise...it's not the first time I've heard that. 
                          
"Okay...so, what is it?" 
                          
"First, can you answer my question." He crosses his arms. 
                          
"Fine, do you not remember yesterday?" I look at him, no emotion flashes across his face. 
                          
"When I woke up at your house?" 
                          
"Of course I remember." His jaw ticks as he turns his head away from me. 
                          
"Well, that's the reason." I cross my arms too. 
                          
"That's it?" 
                          
"No, not entirely." I openly admit. 
                          
"Then what's the rest? I just don't understand." 
                          
"You don't understand? Understand, what exactly?" My eyebrows furrow together, rage starting to bubble up inside me. 
                          
"I don't understand what I did wrong to make you hate me." 
                          
What? Is he serious?!
                          
"Seriously?" I try to keep my cool. 
                          
"You don't understand what you did?" A humorless laugh escapes my lips. 
                          
He just confusedly nods his head, unsure if he should actually answer. 
                          
"If you don't know what you did, take a look at the little slut always hanging off your arm." 
                          
"What? Who are you talking about?" His voice gets harsh. 
                          
"Molly!" I throw my hands up in the air, felling more frustrated than I was before. 
                          
"How is that a reason? You were with Ryder." He rubs a frustrated hand over his face. 
                          
"Oh, no, I'm talking about that one day in the hall. That one day that was already bad until you had to ruin it more." 
                          
"What day?" The harshness intensifies. 
                          
"That day you and Molly kissed in the hall. You don't realize how bad that hurt me." I look away from him. 
                          
"But, I do. And I feel really bad about that."
                          
"You feel bad, yet you still went out with her." 
                          
Wow, I sound really petty right now. 
                          
"Look, there's a whole other explanation for all of that. But, right now, it doesn't matter." 
                          
"Then what does matter, Blake?"