A bullied girl meets the popular new student.
*****
"Still saying that you're perfectly okay?" Max whispers.
I'm surprised to hear that his voice is shaking.
"I'm going to find who did this to you."
*****
One time, I was the most popular girl in sch...
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I groan, sitting up on my bed and stretching my arms. A glance toward the clock on my nightstand tells me that it almost reaches evening. How long have I taken a nap?
These days, my sleeping schedule is ruined. I'm just so tired mentally and emotionally that I've lost track of time. Another unhealthy thing I've been doing is spending most of my time in my room, even though my parents and Aiden always check on me once in a while.
They've been having discussions with authorities, calling and ordering people as well as monitoring the media. Every time I walk downstairs, they would be cautious, as though they don't want me to hear about those fucked up news again.
I reach the bottom of the stairs and yawn, and when my eyes land on the person sitting at a table with Dad in the living room, I automatically halt.
Max.
He freezes as I enter the place. Our eyes meet, and there's a longing in those green eyes, which are wide opened now as he finally sees me again after God knows how long.
It might have been just a few days, but it feels like forever to me. I don't know about him, though.
Max is in the middle of playing chess with Dad. Aiden is watching TV, laying back on the couch. Mom seems to be in the kitchen, because I can hear her talking to our maid.
My eyes zoom in on Max. I don't know if it's because I haven't seen him for quite a while, but my heart beats like a drum in my chest just because of being in the same room with him.
He looks so good even though he's only dressed in a simple white t-shirt and jeans. My gaze darts on his black leather jacket draped on the couch.
How long has he been here?
Then the reality strikes as I look down at myself.
I just woke up, with my hair still messy and disarray, my clothes tangled, and this loose t-shirt I'm wearing feels too thin now that I'm not wearing a bra.
I haven't even washed up -- maybe I still have excess drool on my face.
Crap.
Before I know it, I'm tottering upstairs, hearing the sound of the chair leg being dragged as Max gets up. "Luna--"
I run into my room, shut the door, and lock it. I push my back against it, panting.
Oh, God, this is embarrassing.
"Luna," Max's voice echoes behind the door, and my heart thumps.
How long have I not heard his voice? Just the sound of it makes me want to cry.
"I'm sorry." Max's voice is hoarse as he speaks.
I feel something press on my door. It seems that Max is pushing his arm against it and resting his forehead too, because his voice is so close.
