Sensation (h.s)

Chapter Thirty

"It's been four days, Kate. I know you're upset but this is-"

"Don't. I know you think I'm being unreasonable but anything you say right now to try to convince me to go to classes is useless and insensitive to how much I'm hurting." I snap back at her, causing her eyes to widen drastically. The past four days have been absolute hell and Lena breathing down my neck about going on with my life every chance she gets is almost as horrible as the heartache I'm enduring.

"Okay. I'll stop trying. I just don't think you're going to get over him any time soon if you continue to just sit here and be sad about it." She stands from the bench just as I lean my head back against the wall.

"I don't want to get over him." I mutter in return, my voice barely loud enough for her to even hear. She lingers around for a moment and continues to watch me sit in silence. I haven't even had a sip of my coffee yet but the warmth of the mug is the closest I've felt to anything in the past four days.

"Okay, well, I'm going to go. I've got to be in class in twenty minutes. Will you be alright here alone?" I feel her hand touch my shoulder as she steps up behind me. She's been nice to have around while I've been stuck in this rut for the past few days, but I'm also beyond annoyed with having her here to witness my grieving.

"Yeah." I manage to mumble back. She waits around a moment longer to see if I'll say anything else, but when nothing comes, she finally turns to leave. The second I hear the door shut I feel as though I can breathe again.

I only last about fifteen more minutes until I'm itching to feel something. Lena's right-- it's been four days of me laying around stuck in my own head, and none of that is going to make me feel better any time soon. I don't even care about feeling better, but I do care about finally feeling any emotion besides hurt.

I don't put much time or effort into my appearance as I'm getting ready. With a quick brush through my hair and a small application of some color to my cheeks to make me look less dead, I move on to clothing without bothering much more with makeup. My clothing choices don't come up any more creative and I'm left dressing myself in a pair of blue skinny jeans and a thick black hooded sweatshirt that looks comfortable.

After leaving the hotel room, I walk slowly along the streets and take my time looking around. Lena and I have been forced out of our dorm for the week while it's placed back in order, so we've been left in some hotel a few blocks away. Even just being out of the dorm feels like being an entire world away.

When I make it onto campus, I have to rack my mind to remember how my school schedule even goes. It's been three weeks since I've even thought about classes because of winter break, and now here I am, standing in front of the tall buildings with a blank mind and no idea where to even begin.

Somehow I manage to recall most of my afternoon classes and their order. I remember each one eventually and how to get there on campus, but one class in particular leaves me feeling nearly paralyzed as I try to walk in the direction of the lecture hall.

One of Harry's Christmas presents that I got him was a confirmation that I could switch back into his class, as he had been asking me for months. Two weeks ago when we were on good terms, it sounded like a great idea to me and I couldn't wait for the winter break to be over so that I could finally attend his classes once again. Now as I stand in front of the doors of his lecture hall and try to work up the courage to go inside, I'm left feeling empty and broken as I try to imagine seeing his face for the first time since Sunday evening.

In an odd way, I actually find myself somewhat relieved to walk into his lecture hall. It tears my heart to shreds even more knowing that he's probably going to be disgusted with my presence, but I also am going to enjoy the confirmation of being able to see him and know he's okay after four days of not speaking to him. I wondered multiple times if he was as torn up about the end of us as I am, but I wrote off the thought each time. If it was mutual that we were both torn up over the way things ended, then I likely wouldn't still be moping around and wishing desperately I could go back in time and change what happened. Maybe if this was mutual he could find it in his heart to forget about my stupidity and go back to letting me silently love him without recognizing it.