Page 22 of The Secret Of Us

I stare at the ceiling, counting down from one hundred in my head, hoping that it will distract me and that this horrible feeling will go away. I rub at my sternum as I count, but it doesn’t get any better.

I push through, forcing myself to sit up and swinging my legs out of the bed. I grip the sides as I stare at the floor, counting again down from one hundred again.

After a couple more tries, I feel my breathing start to even out and lift my head. I steady myself, leaning over to my desk to switch my lamp on. The star bathes the room in a soft glow, and I trace the shape of it with my eyes.

Once I finally feel okay enough, I take a sip of water from my bottle on the desk and get back into bed. I keep the blanket off this time, curling into myself as I stare at my lamp.

I don’t know why I expected a different response.

I don’t know why it hurts so much.

My phone screen lights up, and I know it won’t be as bad as what I just read, but I don’t pick it up. Instead, I keep looking at my lamp, making silent wishes until my eyes close.

8

NOAH

“Wake up.”

My eyes fly open, my head heavy as it rests on my palm. I sit up straight, turning to look at the blonde-haired girl next to me.

She’s got a small grin on her face, a glint in her eyes as she holds back a laugh. My face warms, and I shake my head, focusing my attention back on whatever we’re meant to be doing in this class.

I couldn’t sleep last night.

I kept thinking about Izzy standing up for me and how she’s shown up for me in ways I could never have expected in the few weeks we’ve known each other.

I know that she’s heard the rumours about me. Ryan made sure of that yesterday. But that hasn’t stopped her from being kind to me.

I feel like I owe her some kind of explanation for why those rumours are circulating. I don’t know how to approach the subject with her though. She doesn’t seem to believe any of it anyway, so bringing it up would make it worse.

But the truthhasalready come out. It’s been buried under the other wild accusations they’ve been throwing around about me, but I’ll take them if it can cover up what I did for a bit longer.

Class ends, our last of the day, and Izzy jumps down from the high stool, shoving her things into her bag.

“I’m so glad the day is over,” she says, zipping up her backpack and slinging it over her shoulder. “Are you doing anything later?”

She asks me the same question every time we have our last class together, and my answer is always the same.

“Not really,” I tell her, as we exit the classroom and start walking toward the dorms.

“Well, if you get bored, I’ll be at the gym in about an hour,” she says, and my mind blanks as I consider her words.

Does she want me to join her?My heart starts beating faster as if I’m already working out.

“Do you go every day?” I ask her, trying to keep the conversation going. She’s been the one putting in the effort to talk to me so it’s time I return the favour.

“I try to,” she says, letting out a sigh. “But sometimes, my bed just calls to me and I can’t ignore it.”

I turn my head away from her so she can’t see the smile that’s blooming. I find it happening more and more often with her.

We make more small talk until we reach the split for the dorms, both going our separate ways with a wave.

I head back to my room, having already decided to go to the gym. I’m still not sure if it was an invitation, but I can’t think of another reason she would say it if it weren’t.

I busy myself with checking over what homework I have due, trying to pass the time. It works for a bit, but then my mind drifts to her. It’s strange. I’ve never thought about a girl this much before. It makes my stomach feel weird.

I close my books, giving up on any thoughts of studying, and get changed into shorts and a T-shirt, ready for the gym. I haven’t been working out as much as I should, and I know I have to get back to it. Maybe this is the motivation I needed.

---