Always ✔

10| Heartache and Hatred

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"The worst feeling in the world is knowing you did your best and it still wasn't enough"

~QuotesGram

Logan's POV

I hated Thursdays.

Somehow, the worst things happened to me on Thursdays. Last Thursday, I hurtled my car into someone's yard and had to pay fine for shattering their expensive urns. Last to last Thursday, I accidentally stepped on a dog's tail and it chased me down the neighbourhood.

Fortunately, nothing bad had happened since morning, but I was yet all pumped up to face trouble that day.

It was only a few minutes later that my heart did a violent flip, almost knocking over my ribcage. I ceased to a stop a few feet away from my best friend, standing by the lockers, benevolently chatting and giggling along with the person who made my blood boil.

Dylan fucking Summers.

That arshole.

Claire didn't even notice me standing close by as she dreamily stared into his eyes – his fucking eyes; how I wish I could smash them with a hammer. My hold on the belt of my bag tightened, my nails forcefully dug into the leather.

I gritted my teeth hard, really hard. My heart was urging me to make a move, but I stood rooted to my spot because my consciousness was imploring me to turn around and walk away. The reason being – I was a no-one to tell Claire who she should talk to and I, certainly, was a no-one to force Dylan into staying away from her.

I was only a jealous moron who had no aim in life but to study. Who was I to stop Claire from socializing? Afterall, she had dressed well and dolled up just for Dylan and it seemed to work.

With a heavy heart, I ambled away from the scene. Where was I going? I didn't know. I just wanted to get far far away from Claire and heartache at that moment.

I sauntered through the halls, colliding into numerous students along the way until I reached my classroom. I entered it and found it completely vacant. As always, I was the first student to enter the class that morning.

I rested my hands on the teacher's desk, my head hanging low as I panted steadily. Why did it hurt so much?

Just when I thought this Thursday couldn't get any worse, I heard footsteps from behind me. Instinctively, I turned around and once again, for the second time since morning, my heart did a violent flip.

Carlton Hargrave entered the classroom. Impassively, he bolt the door shut behind him and locked it.

I exhaled audibly, clenching my fist "If you're here to punch me, then do it. Punch me to death, I don't care" The fuck did I just say?

Carlton squinted his eyes in perplexity. He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned on the door, confident and nonchalant. I wished I had this kind of attitude.

"We need to talk" was his casual response "About you and Breanna"

My body was already trembling immeasurably due to the miseries that I was going through. He was blaming me for intentions that didn't even cross my mind. Rage had consumed every cell of my body that caused me to holler loudly at him "The fuck do you mean bro? Leave me the fuck alone!"