Cover Your Tracks [HS][2014 VERSION]

39. Two Is Better Than One

"I remember every look upon your face: the way you roll your eyes, the way you taste; You make it hard for breathing . . ."

Exhaustion weighs heavily on my eyes as I stare down at my school desk. Placed in the middle of it is the math homework that I had struggled to finish the night before. Harry had acted as a distraction, seducing me into abandoning my responsibilities in return for pleasure.

I was ashamed at myself for giving in, but I wouldn't change anything that happened. I had stayed up into the late hours of the morning to finish the work afterward, but the events that played out previously made it all worth it.

The recollection of last night causes me to shift uncomfortably in my seat. The heat in my cheeks travels down between my legs as images of Harry panting and moving above me flash through my mind. I cross my legs and rub my thighs together, desperately trying to relive the ache that forms in my center.

The stern voice of my teacher snaps me out of my thoughts. She requests that we pass our homework to the front of the room to form a stack. She walks down the rows, collecting the papers from the first person in each column. My paper happened to be the last submitted in my row, sitting on top of all of the rest. The condition of it is poor compared to the ones below it and it doesn't escape her notice.

Her condescending gaze falls onto me. She holds the crumpled up paper lightly in her old, pale hands. Heat rises to my cheeks and I smile awkwardly in an effort to improve the situation. She doesn't look amused, her eyebrows furrowed and thin lips pursed in distaste.

The rest of the day is slow, but I muddle through it. The hardest part is staying awake, fighting back against my eyes that threaten to shut. They seem to grow heavier as the day drags on, and by the time my last class comes around, I struggle to keep my head off of my desk.

The bell signaling the end of school startles me awake. I slowly rise up from my sitting position, yawning as I push my chair back underneath the table. The metal legs screech against the tile floor and I wince as the sound pierces my sensitive ears.

I stumble out of the classroom and into through the sea of people flooding the hallways. They knock me about, brushing against my shoulders as they pass. My irritation grows with every step I take and I quicken my pace to escape the crowd.

My body feels weak as I traipse the stairs leading up to the bus. I collapse into the first available seat, blindly slinging my bag into the floorboard. Soon enough the bus begins to move and I close my eyes as the harsh sun penetrates my eyelids.

The ride rattles me around, throwing my body into the window more than once. I eventually give up on trying to sleep and sit up, watching as the world passes by. The bus moves slowly, a matter of fifteen or so minutes passing before it reaches my house.

My eyes instantly find Harry's black motorcycle as I stumble ungracefully down the old, rusted steps. The engine roars behind me as it continues its descent but I pay no mind, my gaze searching for the tall curly-haired male.

I call his name loudly, the sound echoing through the trees surrounding my house. My feet carry me across the gravel driveway and onto the grass. I check the barn first, finding it vacant, nothing but dust floating in the air. Next I check the paddocks and walk the perimeter of the yard.

Nothing.

My eyebrows furrow in confusion. I'm filled with uncertainty as I quietly enter the house, finding the front door unlocked. All of the lights are off, the windows and sun brightening up the rooms.

An eerie atmosphere surrounds me. I cautiously enter the kitchen, my eyes finding a note left on the counter. I pick it up and unfold it, my eyes scanning over the message left behind for me.