Without You

Chapter 8

It can be the cause of my mild 'Erotophobia', that I carry from my childhood.

♡♡

My heart, heavy with this internal conflict, found itself torn between the affection I held for him and the uncertainty of what lay ahead. As if caught in a delicate ballet of longing and apprehension, we stood on the precipice of choice, where the shadows of our past collided with the promise of an uncertain future.

After exiting the attic, the heaviness of the situation clung to me like a shroud. My hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor, each one a resounding beat of my inner turmoil. The tense exchange between Alex and me in that dimly lit space still lingered, an uninvited companion.

As I walked, lost in my somber thoughts, Jessica appeared suddenly, her lively spirit in stark contrast to my downcast demeanor. She posed a question, her words striking the dissonant chord of the world I was momentarily trapped in.

"Are you going to Miss Stanley's class, or are you planning to skip it?" she asked with a light-heartedness that stood in stark contrast to the weight I carried.

The English Literature class was of immense importance, not only for my academic aspirations but also for the impression it had the potential to leave on our demanding teacher, Miss Stanley. I hesitated for a moment, considering the ramifications of skipping, yet I knew that sacrificing this crucial class was not an option.

"No," I replied, the word carrying a heaviness that mirrored my thoughts. "I can't miss this class. It's essential. You're also coming with me."

My words held a soft-spoken insistence, my tone tinged with the same resolve that had propelled me to the attic. Though the circumstances were vastly different, the determination to persist remained constant.

As we rushed to the class, our footsteps echoing down the corridor, a cruel twist of fate left us arriving a few minutes late. My voice, tinged with politeness and a touch of anxiety, addressed Miss Stanley, who presided over the class.

"May we come in?" I inquired my words carrying an undertone of regret.

Miss Stanley, known for her strict adherence to punctuality and discipline, met our request with an unwavering sternness. "Miss Greene and Miss Andrewson, you're five minutes late," she stated, her words final.

"Sorry, Miss Stanley, it's never gonna happen, again." without further argument, I offered my apology.

"Keep that in mind, the next time you won't be entertained here." She replied in a bitter tone.

We entered the classroom, each step laden with a sense of responsibility and an unspoken determination to make amends.

As I settled into my seat on the third last bench, my eyes inadvertently met with Sheldon, who occupied the front bench. An inexplicable chill coursed down my spine, a reaction I couldn't comprehend. It seemed that every encounter with his mysterious, cold gaze stirred a maelstrom of emotions within me.

"Good morning, class! Today, I have the pleasure of introducing a group of senior students of our university, who are joining us for a revision session. They have been working hard and are here to share their insights and experiences with all of you. Let's give them a warm welcome!" she announced, pointing her hand towards a group of students, sitting in the front row. Sheldon was among them, his presence now far more significant to me than it had been earlier.

"Alright, class, let's turn our attention to "Anna Karenina." Please open your books to page 114. Today, we'll be discussing an important section that ties into our ongoing themes. Take a moment to find the page, and once you're there, let me know. We'll delve into some key passages together."