To Dance With Wolves ▪Liam Dunbar▪

| 22. This Girl Don't Need Your Saving

"Do you really not care about your grades?" I asked Liam for the hundredth time, as he continued to refuse to do his work.

He shook his head, "I don't know how you expect me to concentrate on any of this stuff. It's literally the most boring thing I've ever tried to read."

"How am I even attracted to you?"

He opened his mouth - probably to say something incredibly inappropriate - since that was his new favorite thing to do, but I cut him off. "Whatever, it doesn't matter. I said you could come over to study, not distract me. I don't want to fail any of my classes, so if I hear one more complaint from that pretty little mouth of yours, I will kick you out."

That shut him up.

When I was finally done, I looked over to see how Liam was doing. His chin was resting in his palm, and his eyes slid over the pages so slowly it almost looked like they weren't moving at all. I could tell he was bored out of his mind by the way he tapped his fingers absentmindedly against the carpet.

Sixty seconds passed, and instead of turning the page, he slammed the book shut and shoved it across the floor. "I can't do this anymore. If I spend one more second looking at this stuff I might actually learn something."

"Oh yeah, because that would be so horrible. Try reading it out loud."

He looked at me like I was insane, but when I slid the book back to him he opened it up and started to read, "The canal provided a vital route for trade between northern cities and the southern rice-producing region of the Chang delta . . . and I'm in a coma."

"Maybe you just need to reboot your brain, I could get a bucket of ice water if you want."

He glared at me, then seemed to have an idea. "I actually had something a little different in mind."

I raised my eyebrows, "And what would that be?"

He shrugged and scooted over to me, "I was thinking something like . . ." He leaned in and kissed me. I did not object.

After Liam left, the day passed by incredibly quickly. I ate dinner and then watched Netflix for the rest of the night. By the time ten o'clock rolled around, I could barely keep my eyes open. I closed the computer and set it on my nightstand, then passed out.

The next day I woke up in darkness. The clouds hung low in the sky and the sun hadn't even begun to rise. I threw back the duvet on my bed and flopped onto the carpeted floor. As I lay on the ground, I tried to recall what I had been dreaming about, but all I could remember was a fear so intense it made it hard to breathe.

My day was clearly already off to a great start, and it only got better. I spilled water all over the sink, got my pajamas wet, and I somehow managed to put soap on my toothbrush; which I thought only happened in movies. Then to top it all off, I tripped on my pant leg, and hit my head on the edge of my bed.

As I clutched my pounding head, where I knew a faint bruise was already forming, I was sure of one thing: today was going to majorly stink.

My breakfast was bland and I ripped my sweater on the way out of the front door. My life was turning into an actual bad day at black rock. By the time I got to the bus stop I was just about ready to cry, and I was seriously considering skipping school. I decided that whatever I did would probably backfire though, so when the bus pulled up I climbed on board anyway, my heart sinking in my chest. I plopped down in the seat across from Mason, and sat in silence.

I hugged my knees to my chest and rested my head on the window. I couldn't even bring myself to move when the bus hit 'pothole road' as we'd dubbed it, and my head slammed into the glass over and over again. A strange and completely unprompted sadness had consumed me, and I felt more hopeless than I had in a long time. I suppressed tears when Liam's stop came and went; and he didn't get on.