Chapter 32: Episode VI: Return of the Aly

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Author's Note 0.5: Something happened to wattpad and I needed to republish this chapter and I lost my picture of sour patch kids??? :( So I'm gonna go and try to find it again lmao

Author's Note: so once again, another late update. Damn guys, I'm really sorry and I really hope you have survived the bout of non-updates. My final exams are starting next week and I'm not totally sure what's gonna happen with my writing, but I'll keep all of you guys updated!

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 32: Episode VI: Return of the Aly

"You see I usually find myself among strangers because I drift here and there trying to forget the sad thing that happened to me."

      - F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

Chance

Have you ever felt that feeling where you regret something so much that you'd be willing to do anything to go back and fix it?

Like accidentally crashing your parent's car. Or telling your not-so-trustful friend a secret. Or eating that last piece of cake when you know you're full.

Or telling the asshole you're head over heels for that no one will ever love him ever again, when you, yourself, are still in love with him.

Some things are worse than others.

But the words left my mouth; soft, swift and excruciating. For Callaway had hurt me like nearly nothing had ever hurt me before. And being selfish, I wanted to the same to him. So I took a blind stab at the air - hoping that my backhanded comment would pierce the armor of the boy who claimed to be invincible. I wanted nothing more but to see crimson leak from his pale skin; to make him bleed as I had.

And, by some miracle, it worked.

Callaway's face crumpled immediately and profusely. The entirety of his face looked like it was being weighed down as all his features drooped. His eyes were dilated, shoulders hunched, eyebrows furrowed, and lips lilting downwards.

He looked sad.

I felt my heartbeat quicken and sweat bead at my skin. I could feel the underlying fear grown in my mind, becoming overwhelming. I felt the rush of discomfort infiltrate my head, blinding me from all else. And it was then that I knew that what I had done was wrong, and there was no way of getting around it.

I felt a lump in my throat, a heavy 'I'm sorry' unwilling to leave my mouth, no matter how much I tried to force it. The deep rooted selfishness was strong and persuasive as it lulled me to stay silent. And though the predisposed kindness of my essence wanted me to scream out an apology.

But anger fuels more than love.

So I said nothing.

Though I felt everything.

And through it all, Callaway's quivering face was as clear as ever.

"You're right."

The words were piercing as they met my ears. No, I'm not, a part of me wanted to scream at Callaway and to extinguish the flourishing insecurity within him.

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