Bulletproof

7.

7. Don't

| b r o g a n    a n d e r s o n |

I didn't get much sleep last night, not only did another gift come, it wasn't the gift itself, only being a simple black dress; one in which I have no intention on wearing. But it was what was written on the note.

'Brace yourself Princess, they won't be as pleasant any longer

               Love, ACM'

Those ten words sent a shiver down my spine.

Along with the gift, I had thoughts of Carter that kept me continuously awake, when I should have been in a deep sleep. I felt bad for leaving him there, and as soon as I drove away, the regret began to sink in. I shouldn't feel regret considering he's the one who screamed at me first, but I can't help it.

I'm a very empathetic person.

I roll out of bed, flinching at my reflection in my vanity mirror. I look like a fucking zombie. I brush out my hair, putting on sweats, a t-shirt, and my white converse. I apply light make-up around my eyes, so that I look less dead before grabbing my car keys and walking to my car and driving to school.

When I get there, I quickly make it up to my locker, hoping Carter is there, but to no avail. I sigh, opening my locker, putting my stuff in and grabbing my text book, walking to History class.

"He- Whoa you look gross" Oliver's eyes wide.

"Thanks I had no idea" I snort.

"Sorry, what's wrong?"

"I didn't get any sleep last night" I sigh.

"Why not?"

"Because at like 3 a.m. Carter called telling me he needed my help, then when I went to help him, he yelled at me and I left him alone"

"So? If he didn't want you help, don't feel bad for leaving him" He shrugs.

//

"Hey, do you know where Carter is?" I ask some brunette, she looks like the girls that usually fall at him feet.

"Why would I tell you? He's mine" She rolls her eyes.

"You want to tell me so I can talk to him about taking you on a date" I fake a smile and her face brightens.

"Okay, he's in the art room" She says "Tell him I love the beach" She giggles.

I don't reply as I jog to the art room, feeling stupid for not checking there first. I walk into the room seeing him in the back, his face buried into a sketch book. I walk over to him, careful not to make any noise, tapping on his shoulder when I come up behind him.

"What do you want?" He asks, not taking his face from the book.

"To apologize" I say quietly catching his attention.

He put his pencil down and turns to me. An inaudible gasp leaves my lips at the sight of his bruised cheek and cut lip.

"What?"

"I wanted to say sorry for leaving and not helping you, I feel ba-"

"Don't" He stops me by putting his hand up "I don't want your apologies, I don't want your help and I sure as hell don't want your sympathy" He hisses and I take a step back at his harshness.

"Why do you do that?" I groan.

"Do what?"

"You yell at me when all I'm trying to do is be nice! Like for once can you at least be nice back! It's like you only like me when I'm not interested in being around you" I huff.