I close my eyes and lean against the wall. Trying to take deep and steady breaths but it all falls short. No matter how much I breathe, no air enters my system.
It feels like I'm suffocating. Damn it. Give up Isabella. Give up on him. It was going nowhere, just give up on him.
"Damn Isa, why'd you run off like that?"
I take a deep breath, his cologne making me choke, struggling to open my eyes. His entire form is blurry but I can tell he's standing in front of me, barricading me in his arms.
"Don't run off like that again, we have to follow Bianca's plan. Remember?" He leans in and whispers in my ear, "The kiss."
"I'm not doing it." I manage to choke out. He sends me a grin.
"So you're going against Bianca? It's just a kiss."
"I don't care. I'm not doing it. Besides, what's the point? Noah isn't here."
"Who cares about Noah," he says as he leans in. I duck and escape from him, turning around to look at the boy who's about to kiss the wall. He staggers backwards, slowly growing angry. "Goddammit woman, why do you have to make things so difficult?"
He strides towards me and I can tell from the look in his eyes that the things he's planning aren't good. So I run. Screw this!
I rush and let my legs take me forward but running in these damn heels definitely isn't easy.
Bianca bought them for me, telling me I had to wear them unless I wanted to come back to school with everyone calling me Lady H. So not taking the risk I wore them. Did she choose this knowing that they're hard to run in?
How much more sadistic can she possibly get?
I heave as I run, struggling to get far. He's chasing me now, his strong steps echoing in the walls. Making my rapid heartbeat beat even faster.
I look behind me, seeing how his figure is slowly getting bigger but stops when my body bumps into something. Well, someone. And nearly trips, but the person holds me up. Grabbing me by the hips so I don't hit the ground.
I'm about to say thank you when his voice stops me in my tracks. Making my mind that has been speeding this whole night finally still. "Are you alright?"
Noah.
I push myself off his body, not daring to look up at him. I look like a mess. I feel like a mess. But his grip holds me firm, making sure that I can't get away. And against my best judgment, I let him.
"Isa, there's something I have to tell you."
My head whips up at the nickname. "Isa?" His eyes remain on me, his fluffy hair right above his eyelashes, the gold showing in his eyes. His expression is stern, calm, melodic. And I can't look away.
"There you are!" Chris calls out from behind us, my body trembles just from his voice. I don't look behind me. I don't want to look at him. Noah pulls me against his chest, moving his arm to my shoulders in a protective way. Protecting me from Chris. His body feels hot. Burning.
"Back off," Noah demands.
"That's my girl you've got there," Chris says.
"Your girl?"
"Yeah, so get your hands off her."
"Sure. That'll make it easier for me to beat you up."
I can hear how Chris draws back. Noah fighting? Don't know if I've ever heard of that one before but I imagine he'd be good at it. He's good at everything.
The air is still for a moment, when finally Chris walks away. I let out a breath, finally feeling a little less stiff.
"He's gone." Noah's voice soothes my ear. In this dark empty hallway, his voice is all I can hear. All I need.
"I know," I mutter into him. "Thank you."
"Nothing to thank me for, you alright?"
"Yeah. Now I am."
Wait, what are we doing? If Bianca sees this I'll—
"What are you doing?" Damn it.
I jump back from his body, keeping my eyes at anything but him. Before he can pull me back I create enough distance for it to not happen. Bianca is staring at us both. Her gaze being sharper than daggers.
I look at her, then at Noah and then her again.
Oh, I messed up.
Bianca walks towards us, a notebook in her hand. My notebook. Noah seems to catch notice of it too as his eyes remain there. Mouth slightly agape. Damn it.
She waves the notebook in the air.
"I tried to be nice. I really did." She throws the notebook on the ground and steps on it. "Mysterious H—"
"Bianca stop."
"The oh-so romantic writer."
"Please."
"Wistfully in love with Noah, a boy beyond her dreams."
"No. No. No." No, not again. Please — not again—
"Did you know? Noah," she turns to him, "the one you've been sharing romantic notes with is none other than Isabella. Isabella Harper. H for Harper, smart girl, right?" She laughs. "Look at her," his eyes are on me, I know it, I can feel it, "don't you like her too?"
I run.
I don't want to hear it — I don't want to hear his answer. I can't do it. Otherwise, I'll break.