C8 Eight

Skylar's POV

Trying to act like everything was completely normal the next day at school felt a bit too hard, especially when I had one of my hands wrapped up in a bandage.

Every time I moved that hand even a bit, the constant reminder of last night flashed before my eyes along with the stinging harsh pain. The gash hadn't been that deep and it had stopped bleeding after a while, but it still hurt. And each time, it felt extremely hard not to wince out loud whenever the familiar jolt of pain ran up my arm.

I would've told Alex about it, but something inside me prevented me from doing so. I was still creeped out by the whole incident that had happened last night, way too paranoid for my own good. That guy in the ski mask was still lurking around in my head and I was too scared to call the police.

Maybe I should've. Called the police, I mean. Maybe I should've even called my parents. But I hadn't done any of that. I had been so scared, so terrified. I was still terrified. What if this got worse if I did just that? What if that guy in that black ski mask came after me just because I involved the police?

Not telling Alex was the worse, though. He was always there for me, even when my parents weren't. It had always been like that; we always told each other everything. And now, it felt like I was keeping something really big from him. I hated that.

Someone threw a wad of paper at my back, which bounced over my shoulder and fell on my desk, right in front of me. Knowing that it couldn't be anyone other than Alex himself, I picked up the crumpled paper and opened it. This had always been our way of talking during class lectures.

I smoothed out the paper with my uninjured hand and tried to peek over the words written on it, a bit discreetly since I didn't want Mrs Jackson to find out that I wasn't paying any attention to her words.

You seem so distant today. Did something happen?

I rolled my eyes with a heavy sigh, picked up my pencil, and wrote. It was good that the gash had been on my left hand or else things would've been a lot more difficult than this.

Don't be foolish. Physics's test is coming up and I'm too concentrated on it to give a shit about you.

I scrunched back the paper into a ball and threw it over my shoulder, right where it came from. Thankfully, Mrs Jackson was still not looking anywhere near us. Biology was the only class Alex and I had together.

A few seconds later, I heard Alex snort loudly behind me. He kicked the back of my chair with his foot and I turned my head around, glaring at him. We both got a few stares and Alex gave me a sheepish smile in return as I turned back around with a small, irritated huff.

For some unknown reason, Alex had been acting a little too concerned towards me since the moment he picked me up from my house today. Or maybe it was just me being a bit too paranoid because of last night, thinking that he was being clingy.

Biology was the only class I usually looked forward to, but even that didn't seem to be making any sense today. I could barely register what Mrs Jackson was saying, and maybe that had a lot to do with my lack of sleep from last night too. How was I supposed to sleep when somebody had broken into my house last night and almost killed me?

My brain was begging me to close my eyes and doze off right then and there. But I knew I couldn't do that. Mrs Jackson was too sweet for it, but I still wasn't looking for detention.

I propped up my chin on my right hand, listening to whatever the teacher was saying even if it seemed to be making no sense. Mrs Jackson's voice felt like a perfect lullaby at that point.

My eyes had almost closed shut when I realized what I was actually doing. I jerked up my head the next instant, hitting my injured hand at the corner of the table, and almost yelping out loud in pain. I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to hold in the painful shriek. Thankfully, nobody noticed. I looked down at my throbbing hand and pulled up my grey hoodie sleeve for a quick check. Everything would've been totally fine if the bandage that was wrapped around my palm hadn't started turning red.

Red with blood. My own fucking blood.

I pulled down the sleeve abruptly and felt my mouth going a little dry. Looking over at Mrs Jackson, I raised my other hand.

"Can I use the restroom?" I asked her in a rush, trying not to show the pain in my voice.

God, it hurt.

She must've noticed it on my face--the urgency--since she nodded almost immediately. I wasted no time standing up, stumbling a little as I pushed back my chair, and sprinting out of the classroom. It almost felt like my head was spinning as I ran in the hallway, looking for the restroom. I guess you really shouldn't run in the school hallways though, especially if you were counting down the last few seconds of your life with an absolute lack of sleep. Because the next thing I knew, I slammed right into a wall.

Literally.

A small groan slipped past my lips as I stumbled backwards. To my surprise, before I could've fallen down with the hit, someone placed a hand on my back to steady me.

Rubbing my forehead, I turned around and saw Caden in front of me. He looked at me in surprise, a tiny furrow in between his brows.

"Thanks," I whispered and took a step back (in a rush), forgetting that there was still a wall behind me, and hitting my head on it again.

What the fuck did I ever do to deserve this?

I closed my eyes shut and scrunched up my forehead in pain, rubbing the back of my head now. My head must hate me so much.

"Anderson," He sounded pitiful. "What the hell?"

I opened my eyes and tried not to look into his judgemental ones, still rubbing my head. I hadn't even noticed that I was rubbing my head with my injured hand until Caden's gaze slipped away from my face towards it.

I stopped then and pulled my hand away. Three tense seconds passed by as we both stared at each other. A small frown formed on his face. I felt my own face heating up in embarrassment before I sidestepped him and took a few steps backwards.

His eyes came back to my face and he opened his mouth to say something. I didn't hear it though, because my hand was throbbing so badly and my face felt too hot. Instead, I turned around and ran for the girl's restroom.

Once I reached the nearest cubicle, I stormed inside and closed the door shut behind me, fingers trembling as I locked it. Fortunately, there was no one else in the restroom apart from me. And unfortunately so, I was going to start crying any second now.

Especially when I pulled up my sleeve from my right hand and looked down at the bandage. I was a hundred per cent sure it had been white when I'd wrapped it around my palm this morning. Right now, however, it was just red.

A small shudder went through me and I gritted my teeth in pain, leaning back against the stall door as I started to unwrap the bandage. The gash was bleeding again and it looked really ugly right now. What do I do? I thought. God, what was I supposed to do?

I blinked rapidly when my vision started blurring with tears. I didn't want to see the nurse. I didn't want to see anyone. I wanted to go home and I wanted my parents and maybe just...forget about last night. How do I do that?

It was hurting so bad and I didn't know how long I could've stayed here without Alex or Mrs Jackson noticing my absence.

Sniffling, I bit onto my lower lip as I furrowed my brows and threw the bandage in the bin. My chin quivered and it wasn't just the pain. It was everything.

Just as I heard the restroom door opening up, I froze in my spot and my eyes widened, a few tears rolling down my cheeks. "What the hell is going on, Anderson?"

I didn't know what exactly I was more surprised about--Caden coming inside the girl's restroom, or him calling me by my last name in such kind of a situation.

I sealed my mouth shut, though. I didn't want him here. I didn't want anyone here. I didn't want him saying something offensive right when he'd see my miserable state. He already considered me a total fool, and I most definitely did not want him to laugh at my face once he saw me crying.

"I know you're in there." I heard his voice just outside my stall door.

I pursed my lips and frowned. My throat felt too tight with the tears that were brimming up in my eyes. I managed to wipe them from my other sleeve and waited for a whole minute. When I didn't hear the sound of his footsteps retreating, I finally opened the door.

His green eyes found mine almost instantly. I cringed a little when they travelled down to my hand, which felt strangely numb. I think I was so officially fucked right then.

"What--"

"Don't." I cut him off, shaking my head. "It's nothing. I'm fine." It wasn't fine. My hand wasn't fine. Anyone could've seen that.

Caden's gaze was stuck to my hand. "How did that happen?" He asked me as he took a step forward.

I wiped off the wetness from my cheeks with my other hand and almost winced when the cool air hit the exposed gash. It definitely didn't feel that numb, especially now that I could feel it stinging. It almost felt like I had that knife tearing the flesh of my palm all over again.

I wanted to scream out loud. But I stuck with letting out a small whimper, "It hurts."

I sounded like a child, now that I think about it. And really, that was another reason why I was expecting Caden to make a snark remark and leave me be. Maybe that's what I wanted--for him to leave.

When I managed to look at him though, I could've sworn that I saw the usual impassiveness in his eyes softening a bit. But then again, it might've just been my teary vision.

He made a move to take my hand and for some reason, I pulled away, my eyes still wide with fear. He looked back at me and narrowed his eyes, before taking hold of my wrist this time, even though it was totally gentle.

"It needs stitches. Why the hell did you even wrap it in a bandage?" The frown came back.

The answer to that was obvious enough. I had wanted to hide it from everyone. That's why I didn't say anything in response, just eyed him with surprise and fear, a bit of both.

"You need to go to the nurse's office." He muttered under his breath, his gaze still locked on my hand.

My eyes widened once again and I shook my head. "No, not the nurse's office. You know she'll tell my parents--"

"I wasn't asking you, Anderson." He cut me off with a glare, something that made me shut up almost instantly. Then he pulled out some tissues and placed them under my injured hand. "And after we go there, you'll tell me how the hell this happened."

I didn't even get the chance to mentally curse at myself, or think of any excuse, before his piercing gaze rooted me to my spot once again, the green in his eyes looking darker than usual.

"I mean it, Skylar." He said.

My heart raced, and I could swear it wasn't fear this time. Not because of how he'd just somehow known that I was trying to make up some sort of an excuse.

But because this was the first time he had ever said my actual name.