Trouble

|Chapter Twenty| Japanese Andromeda

We chat about our Halloween costumes for this weekend and Syd and her aunt's shenanigans. We are almost at the entrance to the gym when my eyes catch sight of Connor standing at the doors leading to the backyard, staring at us with no emotion whatsoever.

His face is blank, his hands inside the pockets of his jeans, his posture rigid. Only his green eyes, they burn as they slide to Jack's hand holding mine, and it's only because I know him, that I can tell he's fuming. His eye twitching proves it.

I bet he hates himself for the reaction he has to seeing me with Jack right now.

I bet he hates how powerless he is to control it.

I want to make his suffering worse, want to wrap my arms around Jack and kiss him with all I've got to hurt Connor as much as he's hurt me, but I don't. Jack doesn't deserve it, I can't use him more than I've already done.

Instead, I pretend I've not seen Connor, pretend I've not noticed his eyes drill a hole in our hands, not noticed his jaw clench, and turn to face Jack.

"Thank you, and I'm sorry again," I tell him and he just smiles, his left hand reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"Stop apologizing, Mia. It was hot."

"What was? Me being an emotional mess? Thanks for the compilment I guess?" He chuckles and I smile, before stepping back and dropping his hand.

"Yes, so don't overthink it. See you later, Mia" he says and starts to walk backward to the gym, and I wave at him seconds before he disappears behind the door.

Once he's gone, I take a deep breath, turn around and make my way to the door leading outside, since the theater building is practically on the other end of the campus.

With every step I get closer to Connor, but never once do I look at him again, even when I can feel his eyes still on me.

Since the classes are over, there are almost no students in the hallways, most doing extra activities in their clubs or studying in the dorms and library, but I'd give everything to not be alone with Connor right now. I'm barely holding myself back from punching him in the face to make him pay for the ache in my chest.

He really brings the violence out in me.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and start to mindlessly scroll through my texts, in a cowardly attempt to ease my anxiety his stare causes. My shoes click against the floor aggressively, and I don't stop even when his addictive cictric scent hits me like a slap.

I hold my breath, deciding it's the best option to stop his scent from messing with my head. I need time to think about what I'm going to do with a clear head and with him being so close it's impossible.

Time slows down as I walk past him, my head held high, one hand gripping the stripe of my cross bag for dear life.

If I slip and land on my face just like in those romantic comedies, I am going to burry myself in the cement right here and now.

This thought is casted aside just as fast as I notice Connor take a single step toward me.

Please don't talk to me now, don't touch me now, please don't talk to me now, don't touch me now.