“I’ve been painting too, where’s my hug and lingering look,” he’s mock pouting and he looks ridiculous, but he’s right.
I walk over to him and hook my arms around his neck as he bends down so I can reach. Before standing up and placing his arms below my arse, he’s a sod, he really is, but at least he’s not trying to cop a feel.
“Is something going on between you and Noah?” he asks, whispering in my ear.
I look over to where Noah is standing, he’s still painting the wall, but his shoulders are pulled in tight. He looks really tense, but I’m shaking off the thought as I turn back to Elijah.
“No, but he makes me feel safe and he has this way of putting a smile on my face without even trying,” I say softly.
“It’s okay you know; I’d never expect you to want me, I always seem to piss you off. But be careful with Noah,” he says as he slides me down his body and back onto my feet.
“I never said I didn’t want you,” I say, a little too loudly before rushing off into my bathroom and jumping in the shower. What is wrong with me? I swear I’m asking that about myself a lot more lately.
A letter is sitting on my bedside table when I come out of the bathroom into the now empty room. My walls have been painted, and as I open my door, I see they even repainted that for me as well. It actually feels nice to have friends, as long as I stop kissing them it should be okay.
I open the letter and want to laugh, seeing I have to go straight to the headmaster’s office Monday morning. No doubt I’ll be excluded for what I did to Octavia while she and her cronies will get away with everything they did. How bloody typical, screw it, I came back here so I could go for a run and that’s exactly what I am going to do. Pulling on my Lycra shorts and black tank top, I’m soon running out towards the track and I’m not going to stop until everything is burning, my lungs and legs alike.
I do exactly as I planned, and I don’t stop even as a light drizzle starts up. I’m pushing myself too hard but I’m feeling so messed up right now, I didn’t want a friend and now I have four. Three of which I think about in a less than platonic way. Why do all three of them have to be so appealing in looks and personality alike.
I fall hard, slipping on the wet ground. I catch myself on my hands, so my face doesn’t smash into it, but my ankle is throbbing as are my hands and knees.
Son of a bitch, I can’t freaking move, and the rain is coming down harder. Can this day get any worse? As usual that thought just goads the universe to throw more my way.
“Damn, you fell hard,” comes from Finley, and I want to scream, I really do.
If his girlfriend and her cronies did that stuff to my room then he definitely played a part. Even if it was only to ensure they wouldn’t get in trouble with his dear old mum.
“Sod off, really don’t need you rubbing it in further.”
He crouches down beside me and grabs my wrists, turning my hands around so he can look at the cuts and scrapes that are now adorning my palms.
“Can you move?”
“No, I think I’ve twisted my ankle,” I reluctantly reply.
He looks around, for what I have no idea, before throwing my arm around his shoulder and heaving me back to my feet or rather, foot.
“Why are you helping me?” I ask, as he takes some of my weight so I can keep my smarting ankle from getting any worse.
“Who knows how long it will be until you either make it back inside on your own or one of your buddies find you. I’ll get you to the fitness building as it’s the closest and then you’re on your own, I can’t afford to be seen helping you,” he replies but it doesn’t actually answer my question and I’m telling him that myself.
“As far as you’re concerned, I'm staying out of it, they can do what they want, and I don’t really care why either. But it’s chucking it down out here and my nana would kill me if she knew I left an injured girl out in the rain. And she would find out, I don’t know how, but she always seems to know when I do something shitty.” He laughs as he says that last part and honestly, as long as I’m out of the rain, I don’t really care why he feels the need to help me.
He leads me inside and I hate that I need to lean on him, but he’s helping me walk, and he’s warm. I need to say thank you, but I’m not given the opportunity as Amias comes storming towards us. His eyes are narrowed to slits, his fists are clenched and shaking a little.
“What the hell are you doing with her?” he shouts, drawing the attention of the few people using the fitness equipment.
He sends the gawkers a glare and they’re soon rushing into a different room of the centre. I’m trying to remove myself from Finley, but he just squeezes me tighter.
“Brownie here took a bit of a tumble and you weren’t around to help her. Would you have preferred I left her out in the rain? Besides, it’s not like she was complaining about being in my arms,” he says smirking, and I hate it.
I slap my hand across his chest, surprising him enough that I can duck out from under his arm and hop away from him.
“Stop being a twat, like you said I would have been left out in the rain. How could I refuse? Believe me, your arms are the last place I want to be.” I know my voice is raising but I’m in pain and I just want to sit down.
“Get moving Finley, before I make you.” Amias is really wound up.
“Don’t worry I’m going, I’m sure we’ll have a great time in the ring next week. As for you Brownie I’m sure you’ll be begging to have my arms around you again, very soon.” He walks away and it’s a good thing really because Amias looks like he’s about to kill him.