Trouble

|Chapter Twenty-Five| Mulberry Tree

When I finally left the bathroom and went back to the study hall, Connor was already gone. So were his sketchbook and other belongings. Not surprising at all. But what indeed surprised me was my bag, carefully placed on my chair with my stuff inside it and zipped. The books I'd placed on the table carelessly were piled up on my side of the desk, too.

It warmed my heart, knowing he'd done it for me, probably not realizing it would give me such tingly feelings and prove how much he still cared. Another smile crept on my lips and stayed there the whole time I did my research.

Every time my eyes rested on his chair, I got distracted, to say the least, but still managed to find and write down four locations I'll have to check next week.

"Let's go!" Sydney exclaims next to me, snapping me out of my head.

When my surroundings come into view, she's hurriedly drinking down the last of her Coke, before placing it on the bar and tagging at my arm.

"It's the Neighborhood!" She exclaims. "We have to rock to my babies!"

"Your love for them is unhealthy." I tell her, but I'm already halfway across the dance floor, my empty cup forgotten on the table too.

We dance, jump and scream to every Neighborhood song, and keep it up for another half an hour before the music gets slower and one of the seniors asks Sydney to dance with him.

She wants to refuse, but one glare from me, and she's accepting it with a huge smile.

My eyes catch a random guy making his way to me across the dance floor, eyes concentrated on me, but before he can reach me, I disappear in the crowd, making my way toward the exit leading to the backyard.

No way I'm dancing with someone else tonight.

Once outside, I take a deep breath, my smile disappearing like an invisible mask.

My feet slowly lead me to the end of the backyard, so I can hear my thoughts away from the loud music.

What did I even expect? Of course, Connor would not come to prove his point, to show me I'm not important. I'm no one to him now, even though he knows how I look when I'm whispering his name in ecstasy.

But the way he looked at me while we shared our breaths made me think that something had changed between us that day. And now it hurts to realize that any closeness I felt with him that day might have been just a fragment of my imagination.

Does he really only want my body? Does he really not care?

Oh, God, what if I fail to make him fall in love with me again? What if I fail before he really breaks me.

He's never going to feel the same way I feel about him, is he?

The thought alone is like a bullet to my heart, and suddenly it becomes hard to breathe. I have to wrap my arms around myself to soothe the pain with my butterfly technique, taking deep breaths as my pace slows down.

And then all kinds of thoughts leave my head when I come to a stop in front of an antique and ionic style marble bench, surrounded by endless bushes of red roses and some small lamps on the ground.

"Wow," I breathe out, astonished, skipping a few steps to get closer.

It looks so breathtaking, so divine in this dark night, that all my problems and worries melt away.

How come I have never seen this before? Never heard of its existence even?

I turn around to check if maybe I'm off the college grounds.

Maybe I've indeed walked that far while buried in my head? Right past the moon and out of this universe.

I can see the law department building from here, but it does look like I've walked farther than I've intended.