Fly High | ✅

42 | Liar, liar, pants on fire

◈A D R I A N◈

"Sure you're gonna be okay?" Logan asked again for the third time since we got out of the staff's room despite Giù's insistence that we should make a trip to the hospital.

"Yes," I drawled out, getting slightly annoyed even though I knew he meant well.

Standing on the sidewalk in front of the pizza parlour, I looked like I got into a freak accident with my messy bandaged head and bloodied shirt. I earned quite a fair amount of reactions from the passer-bys from disgust to shock melting into pity.

"Stay at home for now. I don't want to see you in my workshop until the scar fades," Logan pointed at my forehead and ordered sternly almost like a warden.

I straightened my posture and gave him a salute, "Sir, yes sir!"

The corner of his eyes crinkled in amusement. He shook his head at my antics and started his way back to his apartment while I stared at his retreating form. His long shadow slowly detaching itself from mine.

Despite the slight chilly breeze, my forehead burned like a furnace-a small part of it from the pain but mostly from his clumsy attempt of tending to my wounds.

Smiling, I turned to the opposite side and made my way to my hellhole with a light bounce to my steps.

Now that I've had a little taste of his addicting warmth, there was no way in hell I would crawl back to my bitter cold solitude.

✴

My eyes were glued to the clock and followed every ticking of the minute hand.

Fifty-eight...

Fifty-nine...

Sixty.

Hallelujah!

Once the bell rang to signal the end of school hours, I dashed out of the class with my bag slung over my shoulder before Miss Matthers could say class dismissed.

I was on my toes the whole time trapped within four constraining walls called classroom. Time seemed to crawled slower than a snail when it smelled anxiety. And I was anxious as fuck to get out of this prison.

In less than three minutes, I was already out of the school compound, turning sharp right to a path leading to a dog park where unleashed dogs went rogue with new-found freedom and their owners to slack off on benches scrolling through their phones.

Pulling the flaps of my sweater closer to my body, I quickened my steps to get away from the excited barking from the park. The naked trees that lined on both sides of the pathway rocked gently to the rhythm of the wind, tugging on my hair as well to join in their little dance.

Frowning, I pulled over my hoodie and trapped my hair nicely in the warm bundle. Upon reaching the red and white signage, I turned left heading for the shops after the junction that divided the neighbourhood according to wealth and status.

The rich naturally lived in mansions perched along the hilly side of the district, looking down on us while sipping tea at their balcony. As for the rest of us, we lived in cramped lots with small factories and noisy trucks and trailers blaring in the middle of the night.

Well, isn't life fair?

Pushing that aside, I had a much more crucial issue to deal with.

For one, I needed a plan. A failproof plan.

And this time, I had learned to take my time and not to make hasty decisions like the last time I did.

Knowing the fact that Logan was gay didn't douse Kara's persistent advancement at all. On the contrary, she seemed to be even more relentless to make Logan open up to her, to cross the distance between them.