I am still mentally cursing myself when I arrive at Statton High. Slamming the door to my office, I throw my bag on my desk and pace up and down the small room.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Have you learnt nothing after all these years?

A big part of me is hoping that he won't call me. That he will just forget our chance encounter on the street this morning and that I will never have to see him again.

But another part, the traitor part, keeps checking my phone even though I only saw him half an hour ago. It's ridiculous. After everything that happened between us, I should be on my way to the store to cancel my number and get a new one.

And yet I still can't resist checking it one more time. Just in case.

Stupid.

A knock on the door interrupts my internal debate on my own idiocy. I take a moment to compose myself before walking over to open it, making sure to place my phone face down on the way.

"Miss Hamilton." Principal Withers stalks into my office without being invited in, and plops down on the chair in front of my desk.

When we were in High School, Hailee and I used to joke that his surname suited him, because he gave such 'withering' looks. I am on the receiving end of one of those right now.

I calmly walk over to my side of the desk and lower myself onto my chair, looking over at him and waiting for him to reprimand me.

"You're late," he points out.

"I'm sorry sir, it's just been one of those mornings." I smile apologetically, knowing that despite all our jokes in High School, Barry Withers isn't really a bad guy. In fact, he's quite a nice boss.

His hair is balding and his nose, for some reason, is always tinged slightly red, as though he has constant allergies. He twirls his wedding ring around his finger, it's a habit of his that I've noticed over the years. Sometimes I think he feels a bit overwhelmed by the responsibility that rests on his shoulders. Although, I can't be sure.

"Is everything alright with you Miss Hamilton?" he asks in his gruff voice, scrutinizing me as though looking for something.

I self-consciously touch a hand to my hair, hoping that my makeshift bun is still in place, "yes, sir."

"You look a little," he seems unsure of the correct word to use, "rattled."

I flinch slightly. Was I that transparent?

"Forgive my intrusion, it's just that our students need to see you calm and steady at all times. As their Guidance Counsellor, it wouldn't be," another pause, "productive for them to see you... rattled."

I wonder if this conversation is making him as uncomfortable as it is me? "I am fine sir, as I said, it's just been one of those days!"

"As I'm sure you're aware, I took a big risk when I hired you. Most schools wouldn't hire someone with so little experience. But, given your history with Statton I felt compelled to give you a chance. It's worked out so far and the students love you. However, if this becomes a habit we may have to re-evaluate."

Though his words are harsh, his demeanour is calm. He's scolding me like I'm a Straight A student who has landed herself in detention. And he's right, I am extremely lucky to have landed this job.

"It will never happen again, Mr Withers. I will just grab a cup of coffee and I will be right as rain!" I say brightly, plastering a fake smile on my face.

I don't even question when I became the type of person who says things like 'right as rain'. I don't think I have ever used that phrase before. Mason's been back in my life for less than an hour and I can already feel the shift.

Mr Wither's eyes me suspiciously for a moment, before giving me a slight nod and standing up. "You best head to the teacher's lounge then." And he sweeps out the door without another word.

I slump down in my chair, relieved by his absence. Rattled indeed. I am fine, completely fine.

I don't exactly know who I am trying to convince, but it's definitely not me.

The day passes by in a blur, and before I know it, the bell signals the end of the day. Usually on Wednesdays, I have an after-school session with a girl named Amy. Although, I had found out earlier that she was at home sick with the flu, which means I will be finishing early today.

I'm relieved at the thought of heading home and relaxing. I need some time to organize my thoughts. Mason has been lingering in my mind all day and I want him to get the hell out.

If only it was that easy.

I push through the double doors that lead into the school and step out, enjoying the freedom as I walk to my car. Students mill about everywhere, some waiting for their parents to pick them up, some slinking towards the soccer fields or the tennis courts for after school practice.

It's hard to believe that this was me just a few short years ago.

In some ways I feel like I have come so far from the girl I was, and in others I feel like I haven't changed at all. Seeing Mason this morning showed me that maybe I haven't completely left that girl behind. I wish that I had.

She wasn't strong enough to withstand the storm that was Mason Hayworth.

My thoughts are interrupted as my phone starts ringing. I dig through my bag trying to find it, taking so long that I miss the call. When I eventually pull it out, its starts ringing again almost immediately, an unknown number flashing across the screen.

"Hello?" I mutter tentatively, although I think I know who will be on the other end.

"Di," Mason's warm voice cackles through the line, confirming my thoughts. "How are you?"

I would be better if you stopped calling me Di.

I wish I was brave enough to say that to him. "Fine." I answer curtly. Suddenly remembering my manners, I add, "and you?"

"I'm good. Are you still free tonight?"

NO! I'm busy trying to forget the fact that you ever existed.

"Yes."

"I was thinking maybe we could go for coffee. You know, catch up. I want to hear all about what you've been up to these past few years."

Recovering from the broken heart you gave me.

"Okay." I answer, immediately annoyed at myself for it.

"Great I will pick you up around six? Same place I saw you this morning?"

I want to tell him that I can drive myself, so that I can at least pretend I am regaining some control of the situation. "Yeah," I hear my traitor voice saying instead.

"See you later." I can practically see him smirking as he holds his phone against his ear, knowing that he has gotten his way, yet again.

He hangs up before I can answer. Typical.

As soon as I get home, I throw my keys across the room. I blame them for putting me in this predicament. If I hadn't been running late because of those damn keys, I would never have run into Mason outside.

I choose to ignore the rational side of my brain, telling me that if I had any willpower, I wouldn't be in this predicament anyway. Why does he affect me like this?

Why do I have to be such a spineless jellyfish?

Mumbling about what a pushover I am, I go to retrieve my keys and place them on the dining room table so I don't have a repeat of this morning. I check my watch, it's just after four, which means I still have plenty of time before I am supposed to meet Mason.

I need Hailee.

Hailee has never been a fan of Mason. Even when I was in a relationship with him, blissfully unaware and happier than I had ever been, she stuck to her guns about him being a 'slimeball'. Which is one of the nicer nicknames she had given him.

I know she wanted to be happy for me, and she tried her best, but Hailee has never been one to keep her thoughts to herself. Our conversations about Mason were always punctuated with snide remarks from her.

When he broke up with me, she was rabid. I had never seen her so angry in my life, including the time when we were eight and a boy pushed me over in the playground. She had promptly marched up to the poor kid and punched him, giving him a black eye I don't think he ever forgot and herself a week's worth of detention.

But with Mason, she didn't shout or scream or even get physical, she walked right up to him in school and said in a menacing voice, "watch your back, Hayworth." He looked petrified.

Hell, I was scared, and it wasn't even directed at me.

I want to call her and have her talk me out of going. Or at least give me the strength I need to get through meeting Mason for coffee without becoming a total wreck and reverting back to the girl in High School who obeyed his every command.

But I sigh as I realise that I can't call her. On Wednesdays she has a dinner service practical and she usually only finishes after ten. I can't talk to Alexa about it either as she hasn't returned home from work yet.

She is an event planner, and it is currently Wedding Season which means her schedule is crazy at the moment. Lots of late nights and early mornings, sometimes she only gets home at one or two a.m. I honestly don't know how she does it, but she claims to love her job.

With no one to whine to, I resign myself to moping around until Mason comes to fetch me later.

But I tell myself that I absolutely will not get dressed up for him. He can see me in the same clothes from this morning.