Amelia | ✔

38. No Rest for the Wicked.

I found a note squeezed deeply through the crack of my locker.

In my haste to getting the hell out of there as fast as possible, I didn't stop to take a look at it. I shoved the piece of paper in my jean pocket, shoved the rest of the things I didn't need into the locker, and ran out the there to my first period like my feet were on fire.

Needless to say, I dreaded that Monday. Everything felt like they were against me, and it was wearing me down. For some reason, I couldn't shake the feeling that the nosey girls were from this same school. Hell, probably even the girl sitting next to me could be one of them.

I turned my face around and looked at the desk next to mine as soon as that thought occurred on my mind.

A petite blonde with maybe a little too much makeup for a Monday morning of school sat there inspecting her long nails, turning her hand this way and that way. I ran my eyes across her body, from her short skirt to her small top, and wondered if maybe that's what Logan likes.

The girl turned her head towards me, our eyes met, and she smiled.

I didn't.

Instantly, I had developed some sort of hate towards her and I hated myself for that. It wasn't fair, but all my mind could think about was that it was most probably her. Or at least one of two who called him. Her face and actions definitely seemed to belong to someone who has a nosey voice.

Without even meaning to, my eyes narrowed at her before I turned back towards the front of the class and ignored her completely before I reached down my pocket and took out the note.

The first thing I noticed was that the writer had taken their time to make sure they had a good presentation.

Exhibit A: The calligraphic fonts they used.

Exhibit B: They took their time to type the note, and print it. That was weird.

'I shouldn't have done this. I shouldn't even be writing this, but I just can't help it anymore. You are special. You are different. I tried to move past it all, but it's just too damn difficult. I think you deserve to know. I love you, Amelia. I think I always have since that first day I met you.

I wish things were different. I wish they weren't complicated, and I would just be able to come out and tell you without consequences. But Things are complicated and it's driving me crazy.

Love,

L.'

L?

Logan?

What the bloody hell does he mean?

I looked at the note with my brows creased. Before I could dive deeper into that thought, my phone vibrates inside my bag, and I took it out to see a message icon.

'We need to talk.'

Logan

Speak of the devil... Or think of the devil...Or maybe read the devil's note and they will text.

I was already confused with the note on my hand and the phone on my other, but his actual text sparked a warm feeling on my chest and a sense of being wanted. He wanted to talk.

He wanted to talk!

Now? Where the heck was he the whole weekend?

But even with my averseness, still, my fingers hovered on the keys, wondering if I should answer or give it a bit of time. Damn him.

In the end, I decided he needed to try harder than that. He stranded me, left me alone throughout the weekend, allowing my pain to eat away at me. So, I raised my chin and put the phone back down in my handbag.