Chapter 163
**Megan**
“I don’t know how you can just have casual sex with anyone, the first time with Tyler I regretted it,”
“That’s because Tyler is shit,”
“Says the girl that regularly sleeps with him,”
“Boredom more than anything, most of the time I’m sitting by the pool at home and he sends me a text, and I just think, ‘why not, nothing else to do today,’ so I tell him to come round,” she explains. I chuckle and take another drag. “He’s so bad at oral,”
“Yes, he is,” I say, and she laughs. “I think that’s why he doesn’t do it often,” I say.
“But he’s thrilled to have it done to him,” she says, making me laugh.
“Nope, if he doesn’t do it to me, I don’t do it to him,” I say with a shake of my head.
“I should probably take that attitude,”
“I don’t even fake it with him; I just stay silent,”
“That’s brutal,” she says.
“How else is he going to get better?” I ask.
“I think I fake it about 90% of the time,” she says and looks towards Sandra. “What do you think?” she asks her. She shrugs and looks away from us. I can tell she’s not happy right now. “What’s Logan like?” she asks.
“An expert,” I then slap my hand to my mouth and look at her. She grins and then laughs.
“I knew it,” she says, laughing. I shove her, and she just laughs harder. “Calm down; your secret is safe with me,” she says. I look at Sandra, and she shakes her head before walking out. I jump down from the ledge and look at Courtney.
“I can’t believe you tricked me,”
“Really? I could always get you to spill,” she says with a smile still on her lips.
“You promise not to say anything?” I ask.
“I promise,” she says and holds her little finger out to me.
“No, teasing either, he cannot know you know,” I say.
“Ok,” she says with a sigh. “I will keep my mouth shut,” she says and hooks her pinky finger with mine just like we used to do when we were younger.
“We should probably go to class,” I state.
“1st class is English too,” she says with a grin, and we both walk out. Logan will probably know I’m high the moment he looks at me.
We both walk into his classroom to see him sitting at his desk, texting on his phone. Courtney greets him, and without looking away from his phone, he greets her back.
“How was your weekend, sir?” she asks. He looks up from his phone and then frowns at us both.
“Good,” he says and watches as Courtney, and I sit at the back. “Since when were you two friends?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Melanie says, frowning at me. “What the hell?” she mouths. I sigh and then look at Courtney.
“We bonded over notes,” she says, and I chuckle.
Then Sandra walks in and goes to Logan and whispers something to him. He looks at me then at Courtney. The class fills up. I gulp as he glares at me.
“Outside,” he snaps.
“Shit,” I whisper and get up from my seat. I pick up my bag and weave my way around the desks.
“You too,” he snaps at Courtney. She follows me outside; Sandra follows and then stands watching us.
“Not cool Sandra,” I say, and she laughs.
“Only following orders,” she clarifies, and we wait for Logan.
“He’s pissed,” Courtney states.
“Yep,”
“He’s hot when he’s angry,” I look at her.
“You always think he’s hot,” she laughs and leans against the wall.
Logan walks out of the classroom. He tells Sandra to go back into the classroom to make sure everyone is doing what he had told them to do. He’s looking just as good as ever. All he’s wearing is jeans and a t-shirt but the way they pull and tighten around his muscles. Courtney is right. He folds his arms, making his white t-shirt tighten around his biceps.
My eyes widen as I realise weed makes me horny or just Logan does.
“See,” Courtney says in my ear and gives me a nudge. I look at her out of my side view and then shake my head.
“You're both high,” he states.
“I usually am nowadays,” Courtney says. “You never usually notice,” she states and gives Sandra the side-eye as if Sandra was still standing here. “Me being high doesn’t affect you in any way, so just let me back in the class, and everything will be fine,” she says, and he glares at her and then sighs.
“Go inside,” he orders her. She smiles and walks back into the class, but not before giving me a little wink. Logan turns to me, and I quickly look away. I hate and love being alone with him. Usually, whenever he’s alone or doesn’t know I’m in the room, I watch him. ”I don’t know what to do anymore,” he says. “I’ve tried everything to forget you,” I look at him. He moves his hand through his hair and walks to the empty classroom opposite. He opens the door and looks at me to follow. I do. He leans against the desk, and I shut the door.
“I don’t know why you’re so angry at me; I wish I knew. What I do know is that this isn’t good for either one of us. Every time I see you I want to talk to you, I want to take you in my arms and tell you that whatever it is your feeling I can help you. Which is pathetic, I know. But for some stupid reason, I can’t stay angry at you, even now when you’re stood there stinking of weed with a love bite on your neck. I can’t be angry. I know you hate me and if I could move out I would, but I’ll be gone in two months. So all I’m asking of you is, can we be civil to each other for these two months and then I’ll be out of your life?”
I clench my hands into a fist as I feel myself become angrier. He’s leaving. I knew he was but hearing him tell me now is heartbreaking. Before all of this, I was going with him, and I’m pretty sure we had it planned for the end of August due to me having to do summer school. I can’t even picture my life without him in it.
Why did this have to happen? This is why I didn’t want to love anyone; in the end, I’ve gotten hurt anyway. I want to scream at him, tell him he’s done this to me, but I know the truth. He hasn’t done anything; I did this. It’s me I’m angry at, and it’s me I hate. I could never hate him no matter how much I’ve tried.
I feel his hand on my cheek. I hadn’t noticed him move; his thumb wipes under my eyes. I look up at him, and he’s so close to me. I don’t have it in me to push him away. I’m so tired of trying to hurt him. He leans close to me, his lips lightly touch mine.
“Don’t leave,” I whisper, “Please,” I beg and his lips press against mine. He pushes me against the door, and I can’t help but kiss him back.
This kiss isn’t like last time; it’s slow and holds so much more emotions. Before he was angry and frustrated with me, this time he is expressing how he really feels about me and I don’t like it. He’s kissing me like this is the last time. Like he won’t ever kiss me again. I should be pleased with the thought, but all it does is upset me.
His hands move down from my face even as I feel myself cry more. He presses his body against mine, and I feel all of him. I pull away as his hand moves through my hair.
“Stop it,” I cry. He kisses the top of my head and makes me look back up at him.
“Tell me what you want,” I shake my head as I feel everything I’ve been feeling these past few weeks came rushing through me. “Stop crying,” he says quietly and kisses me again.
“Stop kissing me like this,” I say against his lips.
“Like what?”
“Like it’s the last time,”
“Isn’t it?” he asks, “you told me you don’t want me,” he says. I shake my head and push him away from me. I need to leave. I open the door and walk out, he walks out after me and grabs me by my arm to him.
“You’re right,” I say, looking at him. His grip loosens. “I’m being stupid,” I say and get myself out of his grasp and then run down the hall away from him. I hear him hit the lockers, but I don’t stop. I need to getaway.
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