Chapter 44 Aston
Aston
The following afternoon, I find the last thing I’m expecting waiting for me in my locker.
Another handwritten note. This makes the third. Written in the same blunt scrawl as the other two.
My stomach drops like I’d just been flung off the top of a rollercoaster—in a good way! I think…
I suck a smile between my teeth, barely containing a squeal.
Did he hear about the coffee incident with Alicia?
Did he hear about how the wrestling team cornered me this morning?
Does he actually care after all?
As calmly as I can, I fold the paper up and glance over my shoulder. It’s the end of the day, and the hallway is swarming with students chatting away as they gather their belongings. Somewhere, there’s a cat call, and a squeal of rubber skidding across linoleum.
Everything’s so loud, so bright suddenly. It’s as if someone took paddles to my chest, jolting me to life.
Just like yesterday, everything once more fades to the background when my gaze locks on Vale at the end of the hallway. His body’s angled away from me, making it so I can only see his dark hair, a glimpse of a chiseled jawline, and the slope of his shoulders.
As if sensing he’s being watched, he slants his head just enough to lock eyes with me. He doesn’t even seem to care that his friends are gathered around him, talking and gesturing animatedly, oblivious to the fact their icy quarterback’s attention is elsewhere.
My breaths quicken, and my heart’s trapped somewhere in my throat, beating wildly.
In my hand, the folded note crumples, the edges digging into my palm. I don’t miss how Vale’s gaze flits to my closed fist.
When it returns to my face, I give him a short nod, and a small secret smile, acknowledging I got his note. And hell to the yes, I’ll be there.
His brow furrows, but then his attention’s yanked away by Casey, and the moment’s over.
But it’s okay. He wants to see me. Despite having told me we were over, that he didn’t want me…despite telling me to leave him alone…he wants to meet up and hang out or talk or…or maybe more…
That has to mean something, right?
Is he finally done fighting this?
Is he finally going to put me out of my misery?
“See you tomorrow, little mouse,” I whisper.