12

20.9K 647 191
                                    

The next week, I don't hear a word from either Saige nor Emmie

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.


The next week, I don't hear a word from either Saige nor Emmie. Emmie has a legitimate excuse not to speak to me—she's home sick. Saige, on the other hand, will probably never speak to me again.

In gym class, she does make a point to glare at me every time I look in her direction. She even purposely shoves into my side as we're playing volleyball, pretending that she was just trying to hit the ball.

It's weird to think that someone I used to be so close with now hates me. As much as I want to, I don't hate Saige. I can't. I just don't have it in me.

At lunch, I eat in the library. I'm just too emotionally exhausted to deal with anyone at the time, so I choose to be alone. When fourth finally rolls around, I'm ready to rant about how terrible my life is turning out to be to Thorne, even though I know he's just going to tease me.

Only, Thorne isn't in chemistry when I reach my seat. As time goes by, he still doesn't show up. Before I know it, Mr. Musgraves has started his lecture—and Thorne still hasn't shown up.

I tell myself that he could be sick. More than likely he just skipped class. Only, I have this weird feeling in my gut that something's going on. I pull my phone out discreetly and send him a quick text, but—ten minutes later—he still hasn't responded.

Whatever, I tell myself. Don't obsess over Thorne's absence. You'll see him again tomorrow.

But he doesn't show up the next day, either. Or the day after that.

On the fourth day that Thorne doesn't show up to school, I really start to worry. The weird feeling in my gut that something is wrong only intensifies with time, and it's so consuming that I fail two quizzes.

At home, I find that I lounge around in Thorne's sweatshirt, pouring over the picture he drew me and leaving him voicemail after voicemail. Finally, unable to take it any longer, I call Charlie.

"Hey," I say as soon as she picks up, not giving her the chance to respond. "Have you seen Thorne lately?"

"Um, no," she says slowly. "He hasn't dropped by since last week. Why? Is something wrong?"

"I was hoping you could tell me," I reveal, slumping in my seat as I speak on the phone. "He hasn't shown up to school in four days, and I . . . I don't know. I feel like something's wrong. I can't stop worrying."

Charlie laughs, which doesn't make me feel too good. "You shouldn't worry, Me," she tells me, her voice gentle. "Thorne does that sometimes. He skips a lot. I'm sure he'll be back by Monday."

"But he won't answer my calls or texts," I tell her. I don't know how to explain it, but I can just feel that something is wrong. Or maybe I'm overreacting. But I think I'm right.

"That is kind of weird," Charlie admits. "He hasn't responded to any of my texts either. I'm sure he'll come around though. Just be patient with him, okay, Mia?"

Better OffWhere stories live. Discover now