Thanks to brightyeolie, amiva0402, and jueka1 for supporting me in the comments through this book.

Going to try more regularly now that I'm on holidays and finish this book!

Enjoy?

____

It was Wednesday afternoon in the first week back, our final session of the day. And instead of having our normal study period, we had all gathered here.

Almost everyone had paired off not long after we walked into the hall. The dance instructor demanded we find a partner and a space in the room so that we could see them, and Zac immediately gravitated towards his crush (he had finally gained the courage to ask her out), Luke found a new girl, evidently Lexi and Sara took off straight away, and Jackson had even scored a date to the formal.

"Come on, Callie," Ashton then said as he held a hand out to me. "I'll be your dancing partner."

Glancing down at my chair before looking up at him, I gave him a slight shake of my head. "It's okay, Ash."

And before he could retort to me, Megan, said, "Oh no you don't." Coming up by his side, she continued, "You're not learning to dance with Callie, Ash. Not when I'm the one you're going with."

"But she's all alone—"

Megan placed her hands on her hips before saying, "And she turned you down for formal so you asked me. Don't even—"

"Megan is right, Ash," I interrupted. "Learn to dance with your date, not me. Besides, I'm probably not going."

"That's just nonsense—" he started to respond, but the instructor called out, cutting him off.

With a forceful grip on his arm, Megan dragged off a reluctant Ashton who kept glancing back at me the whole way with a remorseful gleam to his eyes. Nonetheless, as the instructor spoke and the music began, his attention slowly turned towards his partner and his two left feet, giving me a reprieve.

I relaxed into my chair, glancing at my watch sporadically as I began to count down the painful minutes passing until this session was over and I could go home.

But ten minutes later, a teacher called out, "Flynn Thomson! Why are you only just showing up now?" The sound of the door thudding shut was enough to inform me he had just entered the room.

My whole body lit up to know he was near—a thing it frequently did when his voice sounded near me. Despite how long had passed since I had seen him, his familiar tone still caressed every crevice of my being with delight. 

And I hated it. 

Because how did he still have such a hold of me?

My shoulders began to slump as I tried to sink further in my chair, hoping that there would be no interaction between us. After the first day back, Flynn tried a couple of times to get me to explain what happened to me to get me back in a chair, but I refused to budge, always giving him the cold shoulder when he spoke.

Because how could I look him in the eyes and confess that boy I spent so long pining over before him was an actual arsehole?

How could I look Flynn in the eyes and admit I moved on after he left... 

I already saw the way his face contorted in pain whenever Ashton spoke to me.

Or yesterday when Jackson asked on the way out of maths if I had ever completed my kiss list.

Or even when Flynn saw Ray give me a wary smile as we passed each other in the undercover walkway.

Weirdly enough, whenever I spoke to the boys on the kiss list these days, knowing Flynn was back, I couldn't help but scan the room for him. Partially eager to see if he was phased at all by my moving on.

And partially hating that he was...

Because a part of me didn't want to cause him more pain.

And a part of me hated that it did seem to affect him... that a 'silly little relationship' was having an impact on him this long after.

"Sorry, Miss," he said back. "I forgot we were here."

"I literally had you last session," his HPE teacher said. "I reminded you all we had to come here."

"Yeah... it slipped my mind over lunch."

I was glancing over my chair, watching it all unfold. But as the last words left Flynn's mouth, his eyes flickered to mine.

Face heating up in flames, I immediately turned forwards to look at my dancing peers again, hoping he wouldn't come talk to me after catching me staring at him.

Though I don't know why I bothered to hope anymore.

Everything I didn't want to happen happened these days.

Not long after, his deep, musical voice caressed my heart again as he asked, now much closer, "Why are you not in there dancing with them?"

I had two options:

1) Ignore him.

2) Give him a half-arsed response.

I tried to go with the first option, but when he said, "Callie?" I heaved a sigh.

Without even opening my mouth, I waved a hand over the wheel of my chair, as if to say 'how do you expect me to dance in this'.

But Flynn then took the final few steps necessary until he was standing right in front of me.

Eyes glued to my lap, I tried to avoid looking up at him even though I could feel his gaze burning into me.

But when his hands filled my peripheral, I quickly turned my head away, hoping if I couldn't see him, then the feelings would just... disappear.

I didn't want to have this reaction to him anymore. People were scary. Boys were dangerous. And I couldn't be vulnerable anymore.

"Come on," he then said, moving his hand into my line of sight. "I'll dance with you."

Reluctantly, I finally spoke. "I can't dance, Flynn."

"Nonsense."

"You need two feet to dance."

"Says who?"

And, just as he wanted, I angrily turned my head to meet his gaze, ready to bite his head off in response.

He grinned at me, like he knew he was pushing my buttons.

But that grin wasn't the same as before. I could see the depths of agony—the heartache, the mourning—still echoing in endless pangs of pain behind his obsidian eyes. He was forcing this act for me.

Why are you trying so hard, Flynn, when you pushed me away?

What changed?

Why now?

He shook his hand again, as though it would make me decide any faster.

But I gave him a slight shake of my head and averted my gaze again, unable to withstand his weak facade that clearly displayed all the cracks in his fake confident exterior.

"There's no point dancing," I said when he continued to wave his hand in my face. "Even if I don't think it's possible," I flicked him an annoyed glare and immediately regretted what I saw on his face as I did so, "I'm not going to formal. So there's no point."

"I'm not going either," he quickly responded, and for some reason, my heart gave a gentle sigh of relief... as though I was scared he'd moved on from me. As silly as that thought was. "But that doesn't mean we can't have fun."

I wanted to give in.

I wanted to cave to his toying and teasing mannerisms he was giving me right now.

But the pains of past promises were coming back to my mind in sudden flashes, reminding me of the dangers of talking to him and being near him.

It took so long to forget him.

And I was almost there... almost ready to even give Ashton a shot.

But with Flynn now back at school, I felt like weeks of progress disappeared in an instant at merely just one of his feigned friendly smiles.

"It means it's pointless," I said.

And as his hand finally retreated, I thought for sure I had won this round.

And as he moved out of my line of sight, rounding my chair, I thought for sure he wouldn't talk to me again today.

But then my chair started moving backwards.

"What are you—" My hands shot down, grabbing at the wheel rims to stop myself from moving. But the metal merely slid through my hands as Flynn dragged me to the back of the hall.

Finally coming to a stop as we reached the wall, he rounded me until he was standing right in front of me again.

I opened my mouth as I turned my head to go off at him for moving me like that without permission, but before I could give him an earful, his hands came under my biceps, yanking me out of my chair and onto my foot.

"Just what do you think you're—" I tried to say, but again, I was lifted upwards, my foot resting on top of his.

Then next I knew, one hand at a time slid down my arm, stopping at my wrist until he draped my arms around his neck.

I wanted to yank myself away from him, to drop my hold, but one wrong move and I'd land on the floor.

And, as if he was reading my thoughts, his hands rested against my waist and he began walking us away from the wall and towards our peers.

For days, I still felt the burn of Noah's touch lingering on my skin with every foreign bump of clothes, a pole, a peer, a stranger... But as Flynn's warm hands gripped my waist, that familiar nauseous feeling never came as expected.

Instead, I felt safe.

And that scared me even more.

"Bring me back to my chair," I spat, eyes fixated on his adam's apple, unable to meet his eyes I could feel burning into my face.

"I thought you'd be better off without me, Callie," he said, ignoring the issue at hand. We had reached the rest of our group and he began to sway us around to the music—totally out of step to what everyone else was doing. Then again, we only had his legs to work with.

"I want to go back to my chair." I don't want you to keep touching me. I don't want to even think about how it doesn't repulse or scare me.

"I thought you'd easily forget me and move on and be happy."

"I did move on," I grumbled... and it was the worst decision I ever made.

"But you seem sadder. And no one was permanent."

"I'll get there if you just leave me alone." If every boy on this planet just left me alone.

He stopped for a moment, but then just as quickly started again. "I will leave you alone in that regard, Callie... I get that I ruined us. But I want to be friends again."

I could feel the sting starting to grow in my eyes, so I quickly turned my head before he could see it—looking anywhere and everywhere but him.

Lexi and Sara had their eyes fixated on me, watching us from afar.

Even Ashton was shooting us hesitant glances, receiving a few grumbles from Megan.

"We can't ever go back to that, Flynn," I said. Because I just can't deal with you leaving me again... I could barely withstand it the first time.

"Why not? We were best friends."

"But dating ruined it. And breaking up with me ruined that."

"I'll make it up to you. I'll do whatever it takes, I swear. I've missed you, Callie," he said, sending another knife into my heart.

"Bring me back to my chair."

"I'm sorry for everything I said. I didn't really mean it. I was just hurting and lashing out at—"

"Bring me back to my chair!" I half shouted, causing everyone around us to stop.

Flynn stopped swaying.

The music continued to go on around us, but the students had stopped dancing and even the teachers gave us questionable glances as to whether they should get involved.

But rather than continuing to kick up a fuss, he walked me back over to the edge of the hall.

Helped lower me back down into my chair.

All without saying a word.

And the moment his hands left their hold of me, I pivoted my chair and wheeled out of the room, leaving him behind.