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𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙵𝚒𝚟𝚎

MY HAIR IS still soaking wet by the time I get to the library. I try to give it one final ring to get all of the water out before I head inside. If there's one thing I hate, it's wet clothes. My crop top has wet spots all over it, and my shorts are almost completely drenched. I definitely should have changed prior to coming here.

It doesn't take long for me to spot him. He's in the far back corner where it's the quietest, the spot he likes the most, and when he hears my wet flip flops squeaking across the carpet he narrows his eyes towards me, trying to piece together where I was coming from. He'd never be able to guess though.

I want to ignore how good that black t-shirt looks on him. I'm just happy he's not wearing his leather jacket. I know that if he's wearing that in the middle of August then he more than likely hurt himself again. Seeing him in a t-shirt is good.

"Hey." I breathe out, taking a seat across from him. He's still staring at me, and it looks like he wants to ask what I was doing, but he finally just lets out a sigh and pushes a piece of paper over to me.

"So, we all got assigned a mental disorder. Ours is post traumatic stress disorder. We have to make a power point on it and present it at the end of the semester. It's kind of like creating our own case study."

"The end of the semester?" I look at him in disbelief because the semester literally just started. I'm sitting here in wet clothes thinking this project was due in a week or something, not months from now. He shoots me a death stare and I quickly send him a reassuring smile. "Okay." I tell him. "Let's just get started. What do you want me to work on first?"

I figure being on his good side is better than being on his bad one. After all, studying was the reason why everything went to shit between us in the first place. If he wants to do this project then we'll go ahead and get it done.

"We're not going to be able to finish it in a day, I was just thinking we could look up the symptoms of it and the types of cures for it just to kind of get a head start."

"Sure. Do you want me to do the symptoms and you do the cures?"

He nods and locks eyes with me for a second before he looks at the paper in front of me. "That's the details and everything about the assignment if you want to look at it."

I glance over it for a couple of seconds before taking my notebook out of my backpack. I almost forgot it in Logan's car before he reminded me to take it.

I'm not sure why we aren't screaming at each other, and I'm not sure why we're not talking about what happened, but even sitting in silence between us feels nice. I know he doesn't want to be here with me, but I'll take whatever I can get at this point. I know that when we do end up discussing everything it'll just result in yelling and anger. I'm not ready for that yet.

We both sit on our phones as we google information about PTSD. The more I'm scrolling though, the more it's dawning on me that this is something that Xavier and I both could really have ourselves. Severe anxiety, mistrust, nightmares, self-destructive behavior. The list goes on and on, and each symptom is something I've experienced at some point in my life.

I glance up at him after I scribble everything down onto the piece of paper, wondering if he's thinking the same thing. He just looks deep in thought as he's scrolling, and he must feel my gaze on him because suddenly his eyes pop up to meet mine.

"What?" He asks bitterly.

"Nothing." I say quietly, glancing at my paper once more. "Well, do you think that this is something we might have? You know, PTSD?"

"I'm already on medicine for it." He says.

"What? Since when?"

"Since rehab." He shoots back, narrowing his eyes towards me. I immediately feel like shit and sink a little lower into my seat.

"Sorry, I didn't know." I reply unevenly.

"Right." He laughs harshly. "Exactly my point."

"Xav..." I trail off, but he immediately tenses at the nickname.

"Don't." He warns. "Did you finish the symptoms?"

I glance down at my paper and nod my head. It's no use in trying to talk to him about this in a library. It'll just get out of hand and I don't want either of us to get into trouble.

"Great." He slams the textbook shut and shoves it into his backpack before he screeches his chair back and stands up. A couple students glance in our direction from the noise. "We'll meet next week to do more."

"Xavier." I repeat, but it's no use. He storms past me and leaves me alone to wallow in my thoughts.

༺═──────────────═༻

When I get back to the dorms I'm dying to get out of these clothes. They're still somewhat damp, and after all of the events of today I can't wait to just shut my eyes and go to sleep.

Dion and Amelia are watching a movie on her laptop when I enter. I just send them both a small wave and head over to the dresser.

"Hey." Amelia smiles. She's been extra nice to me lately since the conversation we had. "How was your day?"

"It was... interesting," I shrug to try and sum it all up. I grab a pair of grey sweatpants and an old t-shirt, along with a fresh pair of underwear. "Xavier and I got paired up together for a project in psych, so that's always fun."

"Dion told me." Amelia nods. 

I look at Dion who shoots Amelia a glare out of the corner of his eye. Did Xavier talk to him about me? He must have. There's no other way he could have known.

"He said something to you?" I ask him. "About the project?"

"I mean, not much. Just the fact that you guys were working together."

"He didn't say anything else?"

Dion clears his throat and shifts away from Amelia so he can move off of the bed. I didn't mean to make him feel awkward. I know that I shouldn't be bringing him into all of this drama between Xavier and I.

"Elena, what do you want him to say?" He asks me. He runs his hand over his dreadlocks and raises his eyebrows. "He's obviously having a hard time with all of this. It's not rocket science."

"Dion." Amelia hisses.

"It's fine." I say, grabbing my toiletry bag off of the hook. "I get it. I fucked up, I ruined everything, and now he hates me for what I did. I don't blame him for it, I just wish there was something I could do because I really miss him."

Dion's face softens slightly once he sees the pain on my face. "Look," he sighs. "I don't think he hates you, I just think he just needs time to adjust to everything, you know? He's been in that damn place for months, so it's just going to take awhile."

"Maybe." I bite on my lip to keep from crying and glance down towards the floor. "I'm going to go grab a shower. I'll be back."

"I told you not to be mean!" I hear Amelia whisper to Dion as I close the door.

I'm not mad at Dion for being honest with me. I know what I did, and I know that I ruined any possible chance of fixing things with him. He was my best friend though. He's the only person that I feel safe with. He's the only person that I've ever been able to tell everything to. At first I thought it was because we had so much in common, but Logan and I have a lot in common and I don't feel the same way for him as I do about Xavier.

Xavier is just... sexy. In every single way. His tattoos that cover his arm and chest, his eyes that always get so dark they seem black when he's angry or turned on. The way he kissed me, the way he whispered dirty things into my ear, the way he dresses, the way he fucked me.

I let out a frustrated sigh, trying not to let my addiction take over me. As much as my body is craving him, I don't need him. At least that's what I'm trying to tell myself.

I start the water up and let the steam enter into my lungs. I can't keep being sad. I can't keep being depressed. If I remain like this I'm bound to relapse, and I've been sober for the past six months. I can't risk that because of one person.

One important fucking person.

𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎

Ok how are we feeling?

Still depressed??

I am.

Hopefully things start improving soon in the next few chapters (hint hint)

Please comment what you thought!!

Twitter: believeeexoxo
Instagram: deannafaison_

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