Chapter 22 | mondays should be optional

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"Happy Monday," I grumble to myself as I get ready for school. As if I wasn't already dreading it enough, I have the added benefit of Shelby and her followers that are trying their best to make my days miserable. My school proudly proclaims to be a positive, uplifting environment. I'm not sure who they think they're fooling, because they couldn't be further from the truth. The quiet, "awkward" girls are bullied in the corner. I know because I notice it every single day and hate myself for my cowardice. I don't help them. It's not out of cruelty, I just simply have no clue how to put a halt to the brawny bullies.

It happens to me too. Girls pass through the halls and toss me sympathetic looks when I get cornered by Asher and Derek, but no one dares to help. Helping the bullied can throw you into their problems and lower your social status. To help a victim of bullying is to increase your risk to become bullied. Even if the worst you get from them is a glare, you can be sure they'll be spreading some colorful rumors about you quite quickly.

This is the reason for my deep seated hatred of high school. Insecurity runs rampant and the need to perform causes people to put on a façade of perfection. Eventually the pursuit of perfection becomes exhausting and the system breaks down. Something inside of the person snaps. They find a way of coping: bullying, self harm, distrust. When you're practically living in a place that causes you to feign perfection, at some point it's going to get too exhausting. The pressure to please everyone lands you in a heap of problems--where I am today.

As for Cole...his pain and breakdowns have less to do with pleasing people and more to do with his habitual guilt. On Friday night, he seemed to be a different person. He was happy. Laughing. Teasing me. Then the night ended and I saw the fear return to his eyes. I remember what it felt like to watch him walk away. Every fiber of my being wanted to call him back, to get an assurance that he wouldn't hurt himself again tonight. I didn't want to watch him go, because as soon as he walked away I no longer could control what he did. But I had to. So I did what I was worst at: I let go. I him go, praying that he would be okay tonight.

When I get to school, I anxiously scan the hallways for Cole. He's not there. I swallow my panic, taking deep breaths. He's probably just running late, and as usual I'm assuming the worst.

Despite my best efforts, I can't calm myself down--especially when he doesn't show up when the bell rings for English class. Miss Greene searches the classroom, sighing when she notes Cole's absence again. We start the class and I try my best to pay attention and ignore my paranoid thoughts.

"Cole Brighton!" Miss Greene says abruptly, interrupting her lecture. My eyes snap to the door immediately and I let out a sigh of relief when I see him there. This doesn't go unnoticed by Shelby, who aims a glare at me. I pretend not to notice this.

He's here. He's fine. He's here.

The only open seat is across the room from me, so he only catches my eyes for a moment before giving me a slight smile and sliding into the seat. When I hear Shelby, I glance over at her only to immediately stifle a groan. Her seat is close to Cole's and she's milking it for all it's worth. I'm angry at him for being cordial with her for a moment...but then I realize he doesn't know how she's been treating me.

"I'm so glad you're back," She purrs, running a finger along his arm, "it was so boring without you." Her fingers come to rest on his wrist and I notice the way he flinches.

My hands curl into fists. Shelby doesn't deserve his attention. She doesn't get to flirt with him and lead him on to think she's a nice person. She's not. She's mean and manipulative. There is no way I'm letting him buy into her lies--even if she presents them in a way that makes them look irresistible.

I wouldn't blame Cole if he liked her. She's the epitome of a high school boy's weakness: perfect, shimmery blonde hair, a charismatic personality, and popularity to go along with it. For face flushes and I glance down at my lap. What chance do I have? I'm just your average girl.

"Ashley?" Cole's waving a hand in front of my face and I blink up at him, bewildered. "Are you planning on leaving the classroom?"

I glance around, noticing that the rest of the class has went. Oh. Due to my less than charitable feelings toward Shelby, I'd decided to wait until she left the classroom to get up. Apparently I zoned out in my period of waiting.

I blush again and nod.

He smiles, giving a mock bow as he offers his hand, "May I escort you to the hall, m'lady?"

I accept it. "You may, good sir."

He walks me to my locker and then laughingly salutes me as he walks away. I smile and pull my math books out of my locker. By the looks of him, he's okay.

Suddenly a locker slams behind me, causing me to jump. When I glance up, Shelby is glaring daggers at me. "Why does he still like you?" Her lip is curled in disgust as she looks over me, as if she's trying to figure out what he could see in me.

"Maybe he--"

She cuts me off with a wave of her hand, "I wasn't actually asking you," she sneers. "I just don't understand how a guy like that could even want to associate with someone like you."

I don't even bother attempting a response. Instead, I wait for her to get to the point of her conversation. Eventually she does.

Shelby places her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes at me, "Listen, slut, you may think Cole likes you but you're wrong. He's mine."

She takes a step closer, eyes threatening. To be quite honest, I half expect her fingernails to grow claws. The growl in her throat makes her sound like an angry cat. I crack a half smile when I picture her as an indignant, hissing cat.

"So back off."

I swallow my smile and cross my arms, "He's a free man. You can't make him choose you."

Shelby laughs as if what I just said is extremely humorous, "why in the world would he choose you?"

When she walks away, I feel someone's rapid breath on my neck. Turning around, I notice Cole standing there with his hands clenched into fists.

"How long has she been treating you like that?"

He seems nearly livid, his brown eyes sparking with anger. When I don't respond, he grips my shoulder, "Ashley. How long has she been treating you like that?"

I bite my lip, glancing away, "Ever since you kissed me."

***

I just reached 500 reads on this! I'm so thrilled people are actually reading this--thank you so much! I'm going into my third week of writing for this book and I'm enjoying it so much. I've been waking up at weird hours/staying up at weird hours to work on it. So I really hope you're enjoying it.

Like I said in my last chapter, I now have all of my chapters planned out. So rest assured, many twists and turns will be coming in the following chapters ;)

-J

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