Page 32 of The Boy I Loved
The next fewdays dragged on in the most agonizing and painful of ways. He was everywhere I looked, in everything I smelled, everything I heard. How pathetic was it that he infiltrated my mind twenty-four seven, when I didn’t even seem to exist to him?
I’d kept my internal promise, regardless of how much it pained me to do so. But I was on the brink of caving, even if it made me look pathetic in his eyes. Something was wrong. Surely, he couldn’t hate me that much after simply going away to that boot camp. Had they done something to him? I’d read a few articles online about boot camps abusing their residents.
The thought had my stomach dropping. Dominic was troubled, but he never deserved to be mistreated. His father had passed shortly before he was forced to leave—anyone would act out at that age. I knew I would.
When I slipped into my first class of the day, Tory immediately turned around to face me. Her eyes were wide and frantic as she leaned in, not even giving me the chance to adjust to the hard chair pressing against the back of my thighs.
“Have you heard?” she whispered. Her voice was so low that the chatter filling the room nearly drowned it out.
My eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Heard what?” I glanced around the room, noticing for the first time that the students surrounding me didn’t exude the same excited energy they normally did. Instead, they spoke in serious tones—some of them even crying.
Tory wrapped her fingers around my wrist, causing me to snap my gaze back to hers. “Stacy McIntyre is missing.”
Shock punched through my chest with a ferocity I’d never encountered before. “M-missing?” I stammered, attempting to get my brain to work properly. Stacy had been my friend in middle school before the popularity went to her head. I’d be lying if I said I’d never wished something bad would happen to her, but those words had been spoken out of anger and hurt—they were neverreal.
“Yeah. Her parents haven’t heard from her in like seven days.”
“That’s awful,” I muttered. “Hopefully she’s okay…”
Mrs. Felps strode to the front of the room, that strong aura she exuded, permeating the air around her. “Quiet down, now,” she instructed, her voice carrying throughout the classroom.
Tory turned toward the front, her blonde hair swooshing behind her shoulders.
Despite my dislike of Stacy, I couldn’t help but worry. She wasn’t the type of person to run away. She was too materialistic for that, not to mention, it was her last year of school.
“I understand that we’ve just received some tragic news within the community,” she explained. “Unfortunately, life doesn’t stop for anyone, and as such, we also have to continue to live our lives.”
Murmurs erupted throughout the room, followed by louder sobbing from a few girls near the far-side of the class. They weren’t in Stacy’s inner circle, and I’d never seen them hangout with her. Maybe they were just upset because … I didn’t know why they were so upset—maybe the same reason my stomach was twisted into a series of knots.
Dragging my gaze to my left, my eyes fell on Mason. His chin rested in the palm of his hand as he stared off into space. He lookedbored. He’d always been somewhat of a wildcard—the pariah. His reputation preceded him. It was in the callous smirk he gave, and in the way he could change expressions at the drop of a hat. There was something …offabout him.
“Silence!” Mrs. Felps demanded louder this time. It took longer for the class to quiet than before, but once everyone obeyed, she blew out an exasperated breath. “There will be no more talk of Stacy in my class—not until the police find out what happened to her. Is that understood?”
A guy near the wall, someone I recognized instantly, rose. His amber eyes were glossed over with unshed tears as he glared our English teacher down. He was Stacy’s on-again, off-again boyfriend. They started dating freshman year, but they never lasted more than three months at a time before they broke up, only to start dating again. He was also a dick, but at least he genuinely seemed to care about his missing … situationship?
“Fuck. You,” he ground out. “You heartless bitch.”
Shocked gasps rippled throughout the class, filling the room with even more tension than before. Tory turned to glance at me over her shoulder with raised brows.
“Oh, shut up, Russel,” someone else retorted. “Didn’t you just cheat on her a few weeks ago?”
How had our class turned into a soap opera?
Mrs. Felps was practically vibrating with anger. Her jaw thrummed violently where she clenched her teeth, and her gaze remained locked on the boy who had disrespected her. “Go to the office,” she ordered slowly, her voice straining while she attempted to maintain her composure.
Russel didn’t need to be told twice. He gathered his things,storming through the room, and shoved through the exit. The door slammed shut behind him, which I was positive was intentional.
After his departure, the class seemed to settle down some, but the tension was still heavy and thick in the air. I’d never been more eager to escape class than I was right now.
As soon as the bell rang, I was one of the first out of my seat.
My head was consumed by an assortment of thoughts, none of which offered any mercy.
Just as I rounded the corner, my mind set on the bathroom at the end of the hall, I ran into something hard. The breath escaped my lungs as I stumbled back, but two strong hands latched onto my biceps to help steady me.
Steel gray eyes seared through my very soul, knocking the breath from my lungs for entirely different reasons.
“Dominic,” I whispered.
