woman like me - j.f✔️

XIII

She'd followed his route, dragging the sign in her hand and his water bottle was in her other hand. He was slumped against the lockers, breathing heavily. Sympathy washed over her as she sat down beside him, the sign laying ahead of them. "What's up?"

"For fuck's sake, Love." He grumbled angrily. She knew it wasn't her he was mad at, so she didn't get offended. "I'm fine, why do you care so fucking much?" Again, she ignored his hate and stayed put beside him.

"Because you're my friend." The words meant a lot to him especially coming from her. But he was still mad. Mad that no matter how much he wanted to or how hard he tried, he could never escape his past. He moved to a different fucking town and they still found him. There was no point in trying anymore. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

Instead of replying, he shook his head. Maybe he wasn't ready to talk to her, maybe they weren't as close as she thought. "Would it be a good idea visiting the counsellor?"

"No, I don't want to." He mumbled, his head still in his hands. His breathing had slowed but he was still feeling horrible.

"What about me? How about next weekend, when spring break starts, we go for some coffee and talk about it?" His lifted his head, looking at the girl beside him. She wouldn't give up, which he admired about her. She was absolutely gorgeous, yet she was wasting her time with someone who didn't even care about her. He could see it, but she couldn't. Her hair was brown, waved, and she wore a beautiful smile. She reminded him of someone he once knew, and someone he'd never forget.

"That sounds good." He spoke quietly, clearing his throat and standing up. He extended his arm out, her grabbing it to pull herself up. She walked beside him, the sign in her hand as he took swigs from the bottle. "You made the sign." He noticed.

"I remembered." She smiled back at him, watching as he ran toward his team before half time finished. The rest of the game, he had a new found confidence. Whenever Monty or one of his boys would attack, he'd look at the sign in the crowd. With his name on it, and his jersey number. Someone was here for him.

After the game, he spotted Rowan talking with Love, although it didn't seem like much of a conversation. It looked like Rowan was shouting at Love, who cowered in fear. Justin was still clueless as to why she hadn't left her yet. But it was her call to make, not his.

Justin was right, Rowan was having a meltdown at Love for the banner. And following him during half time. She barely listened to her girlfriends whining, before feeling a slap against her cheek. Justin had seen it happen, rushing over to the aid of his best friend.

"Oh," Rowan griped, throwing her hands into the air. "Of course he's here to save you." Love stumbled back, knowing everyone had witnessed the slap. Justin's arm slid round her shoulder, keeping her close and away from Rowan. "But does he know that you aren't the innocent sweetheart that he thinks you are? You haven't paid any attention to me, you don't care for me at all."

Love was too embarrassed and hurt to even respond, she had tears welling up in her eyes. Justin stood in front of her, as if to shield her from whatever attacks Rowan sent their way.

"What about when she got her jaw fractured? Were you at the hospital waiting for her, did you check in? Fuck you, you didn't. But I did. I know what you've done, and I don't know why she's still with you." Justin stormed, grabbing Love's hand and leading her inside and away from Rowan. The cheerleaders and surrounding audience had dispersed, leaving Rowan in fury.

"Thank you," she mumbled, looking up at him. Her cheek was now red, and she slapped the side she'd previously been punched in. "You didn't have to do that."

Justin slid his hand on her cheek, massaging it lightly with the pad of his thumb. "I did have to, because I know you won't stand up for yourself." She pursed her lips, looking down at her feet. He was right, no matter how hard Rowan hit, Love could never hit back just as hard. She waited as he had entered the locker rooms, quickly changing his outfit and walking to the parking lot.

"Oh wait!" She called out. He stopped, turning to see her as she ran to her car. She'd grabbed his school sweatshirt and handed it to him. "I kept this from yesterday." He chuckled and looked down at the neatly folded sweatshirt.

"Keep it, I have another at home." He mentioned. She nodded and held it close to her chest. "Also, it looks good on you." She lifted the hoodie to her face to hide the blush on her cheeks, smelling the scent it held. A musky vanilla. "Goodnight, Love."

"Hey, it's not goodnight. What about our FaceTime?" She frowned, watching as he began to talk but kept his gaze on her. Truth is, he was tired and wanted to sleep as soon as he got into bed, but if Love wanted FaceTime, it is FaceTime she'll get. He nodded and got into his car, seeing her wave through her window as she drove away.

He smiled to himself. He was proud of tonight. A massive win, standing up for Love, and making her blush. No matter how much she'd tried to hide it, he saw it. Her nose would scrunch and in turn, make her eyes squint. It was the cutest thing. That was all he could think of on the drive home, seeing her face on his screen, watching her fall asleep first before whispering a soft 'goodnight'. And he'd spend the rest of the night with her on his mind. What was happening to him?