Page 31 of Collided

Why am I even thinking that?

“Hope, you're coming, right?” Marie shares her fries with her.

Hope twiddles her fingers in her lap. The movements get hasty as if she’s nervous.

“Um, sure. Friday it is, right?” Her voice comes out breathy as she stares at her.

Marie nods. “Yes. I’ll even pick you up and drop you off.”

“You don’t have to,” she rushes.

“It’s no big deal.”

Hope nods. She doesn’t touch her burger and instead stares at the table. She wants to make herself disappear. I know that feeling all too well, but I hate that she’s feeling it.

When school ends, I go up to the rooftop and smoke a couple of cigarettes. Once I feel at peace, I get to the empty parking lot.

I spot Hope sitting on the entrance stairs. She’s holding her head in one hand and staring at her phone.

My first instinct is to call Marie and tell her to get here, but then I remember she left with Sebastian to buy groceries for his home. I swear the two of them are like a married couple.

I spare Hope another glance.That girl isn’t your problem. Keep walking.

I turn around only for my heart to scream at me to do the right thing.

For fuck’s sake.Muttering a few more curses, I stride in her direction and climb up the stairs.

The sound of my footsteps gets her attention, and she lifts her head. “Hi.” She smiles shyly.

I stand rigid and ask in a rough tone, “Why are you here so late?” I’m agitated with myself for caring when I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it.

She grimaces as if she’s in pain. “I have a headache, and I missed the bus, so I’m booking a cab.”

My eyes dart to her phone which is cracked from the top side, then back at her.

“I’m going to grab something for lunch. You can come with me, I’ll drop you off.” I lie.

I hate myself.

Hope checks her phone. “I’m not hungry and my ride is an hour away.”

“What?” My voice raises. She winces.

Fucking dammit.

“You should go.” She avoids my stare.

I want to leave.

I want to stay away from her.

But I just can’t.

“Come with me.” I jog down the stairs. When I look back she’s staring at me with a frown.

The sun rays fall on her and the red turtleneck she’s wearing givesmesweat. How is she not feeling hot?

Her dark brown hair falls like waves over her front and reaches a few inches below her breasts—do not focus on them—and is curly at the ends. The black jeans hug her legs and accentuate her thighs—stop looking at those curves—and she has blue Converse on.

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