A few more days had gone by without a word between my mom and me, and I hadn't managed to catch Zane alone either.In art lab, I was focused on finishing my project: a dress with a spherical skirt designed to look like an orange peel.It allowed for easy sitting, and when you stood up, it puffed back into its round shape.
In two weeks, we'd have a little fashion show here at school, open to parents as well.I was nearly finished; I just needed to complete the sleeves.As usual, the classroom doors were open, and I spotted Zane walking by.This was my moment.I quickly raised my hand and asked to be excused to the bathroom.
“Zane,” I called out softly, trying to steady my breathing as I reached for his arm from behind.He turned to me with a casual expression, not saying a word.He was wearing skinny dark blue jeans and a white hoodie that accentuated the contrast of his skin and honey-amber eyes.
“I need to talk to you,” I whispered.
“I'm not really in the mood for a chat right now,” he replied dismissively, starting to walk away.
“Did you leave a red envelope in my backpack?”I asked, my voice steady.He paused and looked back at me, an uncomfortable silence hanging between us.His gaze searched mine, as if weighing his response.I saw his hesitation.
“I thought you might like a photo of that room with your name all over the walls.Just as a keepsake,” he stated blandly.“And how did you know it was me?”he added.
“The handwriting on the back of the photo gave it away,” I answered, my curiosity piqued.“Why?”I couldn't help but ask.
“Why, what?”he replied, buying himself time.
“Why did you write my name?Why did you give me that photo?”I asked, my voice trembling as I braced myself for his response.He stepped closer, and I instinctively backed against the wall.He was closer than I'd anticipated, bending slightly to bring his face to mine.
His lips were parted, and I could feel his warm breath against my skin, my heart racing against my will.He was looking at me, truly looking at me.
His gaze seemed to pierce through me, sending a rush through my veins that ignited like fireworks on my lips, causing me to gasp in surprise.It was an indescribable sensation, and I found myself tensing against the wall, waiting… desperately trying to decipher the meaning in his eyes.My heart thumped loudly, as if trying to escape.
Then, he leaned in closer to my right ear and whispered in a low voice, “Because I like you, you dummy.”A shiver coursed through me as he smiled and hurried away, leaving me drowning in his words.
What just happened?I was utterly disoriented.Why would he say something like that?Was this some sort of game?A bet he made with the others?What on earth?He was with Jessica and suddenly confessed that he had feelings for me?It was absurd.
I hurried to the restroom, splashing cold water on my hands, trying to cool my boiling blood and clear my head.Those words echoed in my mind like a broken record, refusing to fade.I couldn't find a way to calm down.
I loathed him and everyone else involved, yet there was an undeniable thrill in his confession that I couldn't shake.I felt like I was losing my grip on reality; everything was a chaotic blur in my mind.
I made my way back to class, and I must have looked like I'd seen a ghost.The scary part was that part of me was considering being hunted.
Chapter 11
October 26th
Wanting something you can't have transforms your dreams into nightmares.
Islipped into my sleek black cocktail dress, pairing it with some stylish short black boots.My hair cascaded in soft waves, and I applied just the right amount of makeup.I caught a glimpse of myself and saw a transformation; I looked different, more mature.My cheekbones seemed to stand out more, perhaps because I'd shed a few pounds.I felt ready for my date with Marco.
Grabbing my brown coat and bag, I made my way downstairs, knowing he would be here any minute.
“Wow, sweetheart.You look… older.”My dad’s eyes widened in surprise, his mouth agape.Normally, I always wore sneakers all the time, so this was quite the change.
“Older?Thanks, Dad.”I chuckled, not quite sure how to take it.
“Sorry!I meant you look like a woman now, not a little girl anymore.It's just hard for me to wrap my head around how grown up you've become.”He looked me over.
“Don't worry, I'll always be your little girl, no matter my age.”I smiled and drew him into a hug.“Is Mom coming home?”I asked, aware that we hadn't spoken to her for so long.She had left abruptly, claiming she had some emergencies to attend to, but I suspected it was more about her shame over her actions and not knowing how to face either of us.
“She called earlier; she'll be back tonight.I think we'll just order takeout,” he replied, his eyes gleaming with hopeful anticipation as if he were preparing for a romantic evening.I felt a twinge of discomfort.I believed my dad deserved the truth, and I hoped my mom would finally confront her mistakes.
“Marco's here!”Dad pointed toward the window.
“Okay, I'm off.Grabbing my keys!”I said, heading for the door.
“Have fun, but don't stay out too late.I'll be waiting up for you,” he said, his fatherly tone firm as always.
