Secrets of Us A Forbidden Love Romance (Alina)

Chapter 5

Death

"Stop following me."

Zaid says nothing, still walking behindas | make my way to my next class.

My voice still trembles from the nerves, from the panic attack that almost tookout. But | don't care.

| step inside Ms. Art's class, rolling my eyes when Zaid follows. | beeline for a seat beside a quiet girl who sat by

herself yesterday, but | am pulled back when Zaid grabs my backpack.

He leadsto the back seats, settling beside me.

"You're not even in this class," | hiss, wiping the fresh tears that fall down my face.

"I'm in whatever class | want to me."

| scoff. "Who are you?"

"I'm Zaid," He shrugs.

"You know what | mean."

Ms. Art begins her lesson, telling us to read a chapter of the book she has placed

on our desks. | pick up the book and lift it to cover my face as | turn to Zaid.

| clench my jaw, "Why are you here?"

"| just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Bullshit," | grit. It was his fucking fault that | freaked out. | told him to stop, begged him to stop. He did nothing

but tauntand throw it back in my face.

"| didn't mean for that to happen," He whispers. He doesn't look at me, doesn't

even lift his own book, just looks straight ahead as if Ms. Art is walking across the front of the room.

"That's the worst fucking apology."

"It's not an apology," He turns to me, his face sharp, his eyes calculating. "I'm not apologizing for something you

can't control."

My heart slams in my chest and the tips of my finger turn numb. "Asshole."

"| learned to control my panic. You need to do that, too."

I kick him in the shin beneath the desks and a smirk lifts his lips. That only makesangrier, that wasn't the

intended reaction. "What? You think because we showed each other our scars, we're the same? That we can

bond? Newsflash, no one wants to be friends with a degenerate."

He snorts, his shoulders shaking.

"I'm glad you find this amusing."

He shrugs. "It's funny. My father callsthat."

"Well, he sounds like a smart man."

He turns to me, his hands in tight fists. "You honestly find it a compliment to be compared to a forty year old

man?"

My nostrils flare. "When you lose your forty year old father, yes, it's a compliment."

Hurt flashes in his eyes. "Then | take it that should mean it would be complimentary forto be compared to a

forty year old woman?"

Shock leavesspeechless and my eyes, on their own accord, trace down to his chest and his stomach where

his scar is. He doesn't say anything, but that look in his eyes is enough confirmation.

It's the slook | see in the mirror when | can't stop the guilty thoughts from taking hold of my brain. That look

| get when | wish | was the dead one so that my father and Alex could be alive. That look | get when | don't

understand why it wasthat survived.

Asshole or not, Zaid had lost his mother and my heart ached for him.

| know exactly how he feels, the thoughts he fights with.

"Don't givethat pitiful look," He murmurs, his fingers over his lips as he continues to look forward. "I get

enough of those. Besides, from where I'm sitting, you need a lot more help than | do."

| look away from him and try to focus on the words in the book. They blur in front ofand I struggle to focus.

We say nothing else to each other for the rest of class and when the bell rings, he followsout and into my

last class of the day.

"You really don't have to follow me. I'm fine now," | stop in the hallway, turning to face him.

He frowns. "I'm not following you. These are my classes."

| raise an eyebrow. "I don't believe you."

He looks around, smirking. "Doesn't matter."

"You weren't in these classes yesterday."

He snorts. "Do | look like the type to always go to class?"

| purse my lips. He doesn't, but | feel silly admitting that to him. Instead, | spin on

my heels and walk into the class, exhaling in annoyance as he sits beside me.

"Are you ever going to leavealone again?"

He licks his lips, throwing his head back and closing his eyes as if he is getting ready for a nap. "Nope."

Fire boils inside me, fuming fromas | exhale, but | say nothing, knowing that no conversation with him will

ever end withhappy and agreeing with him.

His jaw clenches, the vein in his neck popping. He has a tattoo behind his ear, a bird of skind, black with

large wings and a pointy beak. He lifts his head, looking to the front of the room.

"It's a raven."

| swallow, "What are you talking about?"

He smirks and swings those dark eyes to me, "You were checkingout."

"No, | wasn't."

He cocks his head, his smirk spreading into a grin. His eyes takein, from the top of my head to the top of my

breasts. | heat up under his gaze and | lick my lips, forcing myself to not look away, to not give him the

satisfaction.

"You're a terrible liar."

| inhale. | know I'm a terrible liar, | hate lying, | hate deceiving. | say nothing, just stare at him as he gathers his

things. There's still 30 minutes left in class. "You're leaving?"

He shrugs. "This class is bullshit."

He leans toward the desk, ready to stand, but I blurt. "Why a raven?"

His eyes narrow, they cross my face, down from my eyes to my mouth. "Do you

know what ravens symbolize?"

| shake my head.

He cocks his head, standing to his full height, but before he walks out of the class,

he utters one whispered word.

"Death."