Chase Me

9.

Impatiently, I grumbled and tapped my Valentino heels on the concrete floor of the hallway. Students bustled past, jostling each other in their rush to get to class. Glancing at my watch, a scowl formed on my face.

Where on earth is he?

I had seen all my friends earlier in the morning. They had wished me a happy birthday, and I made sure to remind them about the party at my house tonight. As the minutes ticked by, the hallway gradually emptied, leaving only a few stragglers scurrying to their classes.

Finally, Zane sauntered through the large doors, seemingly unfazed by his lateness. A wide smile stretched across his face when he spotted me leaning against his locker. "Happy sweet sixteen, sugarplum."

He draped his arm over my shoulder and planted a kiss on my cheek. "Cute. New shoes?"

"Yes, a gift from Milan. Why are you late? You know Mrs. Nguyen doesn't tolerate tardiness," I scolded him, giving him a disapproving look.

"Pff, I know," he replied nonchalantly. "But I don't care, because it's your birthday today." With a cheesy grin, we began walking towards our History class.

"Yeah, right," I scoffed, rolling my eyes as we ascended the stairs to the first floor. "By the way, why were you late?"

"Want to know now or later?" he asked, scanning the surroundings as if searching for someone.

"Now, please. You know I'm impatient."

He chuckled, intertwining his fingers with mine. "Then let's go."

Before I could comprehend his intention, he tugged me into the janitor's closet. "What the hell, Zane?!" I exclaimed, my heart pounding in my chest.

Swiftly, he placed his hand over my mouth. "Shh, you wanted to know why I was late, right?"

I nodded, wide-eyed.

Slowly, he removed his hand. "Promise me you won't scream," he whispered, fumbling with his backpack.

I shook my head. "I won't."

"Promise me."

"I promise." Now my curiosity and nerves were escalating simultaneously. "Show me."

With caution, he unzipped his backpack and glanced up at me. "Don't scream," he warned, before revealing its contents.

My eyes widened in shock as I beheld what was inside his bag, and before Zane could cover my mouth, a scream escaped my lips.

Zane took a sip of his wine and leaned close to me, his shoulder occasionally brushing against mine as he spoke with his dad. "The meeting ended early. Stanford's wife went into labor, so we had to cut it short," he explained.

When Zane entered the restaurant, it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. He had changed so much in five years-taller, broader-shouldered, with his dark hair falling over his face as his curious eyes took in my appearance.

If he was surprised to see me, he didn't show it.

"Excuse me, I'll go to the bathroom," I said, placing my napkin on my plate and rising from my seat. I could feel Zane's gaze burning into my back as I walked away.

I couldn't bear being so close to him any longer. It was suffocating to be in the presence of someone who had once meant everything to me.