Almost.
As we were finishing up, I quickly left to use the bathroom. When I returned, my heart just about stopped when I spied Harrison fiddling with my phone.
Fucking amateur, leaving my phone open like that in front of him.
"What are you doing?" I demanded breathlessly. I snatched my phone and opened my socials, going through the posts.
"Did you post something? Send a dick pic?"
He rolled his eyes. "You wish."
"What did you do?" I yelled, heart racing.
His brow rose at my tone. "Relax." He took his phone out of his bag and started typing something out.
My phone dinged with a message.
Harrison:See you same time tomorrow?
My breath rushed out, and I almost sagged in relief. My heart was still pounding as I clutched my phone protectively to my chest.
"Grace?"
I couldn't do this.
For a second there, I forgot.
I forgot the cruel taunts, the tears, the embarrassment, and the pain. Seeing Harrison messing with my phone brought back the same panic I felt whenever I saw him walking towards me in the hall or standing too close to my locker. I was always the punchline to some joke or prank he wanted to play to earn a few chuckles from his friends.
I hurriedly gathered up my books and shoved my phone into the pocket of my jeans. I had to get out of here before I burst into tears.
"Gracie, what's wrong?"
"Don't call me Gracie," I snapped.
Harrison frowned as if he had no clue as to why I was having a mild panic attack. He stood up, holding his hand out to me.
Ignoring his gesture, I slung my backpack over my shoulder and hastily strolled out of the library without a word.
"Grace!"
***
I was lying in bed re-reading a withered copy ofThe Count of Monte Cristowhen my phone pinged.
Harrison:Still mad at me? :)
I ignored him.
A half-hour later, my phone sounded off again.
Harrison:C'mon. I promise never to touch your phone again :)
I went back to reading.
Harrison:Whatcha doin'?
Harrison:Don't be starting that project without me, darlin'
