Try tackling anxiety

chapter 3

Hannah

"What's the point? You don't care, you never have,"

I yell at Elijah before I attempt to flee his gaze. But I regret it. So much.
I know he's known for being the school playboy, and uneducated dickhead.

But there's no need for him to be that attractive.

I'm immediately distracted by the difficulty to breathe, my feet ache as they slam against the hard floor, my converse making a vile noise. Ew. I reach the school music studio. My back slides across the wall, which feels cooling against my shoulders as I take the ivory cardigan off. I tug at the neckline of my dress, the heavy fabric sticking to my warm skin. Oh no. It's too tight, way too tight. Short, pathetic breaths leave my mouth as I pat the velvet like fabric down, searching for a solution. I reach for my back, my sweaty hands slip of the metal zipper. I slide it down, my fingers brush the back of the bra I really wish I didn't have to wear.
I lean back, a cold sensation running down my spine.

That feels nice.

I push my legs into my chest, my chin resting against my knees and my fingers tapping the vinyl floor.
I stay in the same position for a while, enjoying the quiet before they start searching the school.

I take a deep breath when I hear heavy footsteps moving towards me, preparing myself for a long, harsh lecture. I twist my body around towards the door, expecting to see a grumpy teacher or some goody two shoes from the school council.

I want to die.

He leans into the room, smiling where he sees me before moving towards me.

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere, and I mean EVERYWHERE, for you," he grins

"O-oh," I mumble, burying my face into my knees. Thankfully, not in the way you would expect. Salty water wells in my eyes. I want him to go away so badly, yet i want him so much closer to me.
I watch him as he grabs his battered baby blue bag from his back, pulling out a black and red package, I hesitantly pulled it from his fingers.
I read the package "Protein brownie," 25 grams of protein."

"Chocolate makes everything better."

I sit in silence, him not so much.
He keeps asking me questions, I think he's trying to help. he's not.

I want to cry, not get interrogated.

Multiple tears travel down my face when I realize that he doesn't care.
He's doing this because of a dare, or a bet. Cold liquid rolls down my face,   a feeling I'm extremely familiar with.
But I don't understand.
I'm shedding tears over an obnoxious boy who has probably smoked week millions of times.
But something about him is so magnetic despite his careless reputation.
You're just a joke to him
The thought circles in my mind till I'm struggling to breathe again. The sound of my sob fills the room.

He turns to face me, his soft eyes looking at me.

"Tell me what's wrong, please,"

What's wrong?

You don't care
You don't care
You don't care
You don't care
You don't care

You don't care
And here I am, falling for someone so quickly
So quickly
It was probably an hour
Do I even like him?
Or am I being dramatic?
Oh shit
Am I on my period????
No, you're not
That was last week
Phew

He's still looking at me
He's reaching for my hand
I'm frozen
Literally frozen
He's holding my hand
Really tightly

"Tell me everything,"

What?

No.

"Why the fuck are you doing this?"

I yell before gasping, my hand covering my mouth before tears come showering down my face.
I run away, and the back of my dress is still wide open. I don't care.
He tries to grab my wrist and hold me back. But I break free.

He's just acting anyway .
He doesn't care.