Until It Wasn't by J. Grandison & Amy Robyn

Author:J. Grandison & Amy Robyn [Grandison, J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-09-12T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12. Shawn

That painting has haunted my dreams since Saturday. I know Braden painted it, but I am confused as to what Charlie’s intentions were that night, or if she even knew it was me, or who the artist was.

I’m trying to concentrate on what Shannon, my new tutor, is saying, but I can’t. Every hair on the back of my neck stands straight up, and I immediately start looking for him. I spot Braden and Tristan standing across the library staring, then I see them walk faster, holding hands. I instantly feel sick to my stomach. What the fuck? Tristan isn’t gay; he has screwed his fair share of girls. What’s his game? I watch them go into one of the empty media rooms in the back of the library.

My knee begins to bounce nervously as I try to turn my attention back to Shannon. Everything she says sounds gurgled like I’m under water. I can’t catch my breath and feel like I’m drowning. My anger builds.

Braden ignores me then shows up with the douche of the school. I excuse myself to use the restroom, and instead of going the one that’s twenty feet from us, I end up the one by the media rooms.

When I walk by, I see them sitting side by side, Braden pointing to something in the book that is placed between them. He knows I’m there but never looks up. I saunter into the restroom, heading straight to the sink. I turn on the cold water to splash some on my face. When I look up in the mirror, I see Braden standing there.

“You haven’t answered any of my calls,” I say looking at him through the glass. He doesn’t respond, just stands there staring at me. I can see the tears building in his eyes, and my heart begins to hurt. “Are you going to say anything or just stand there?” I ask as I turn around, leaning against the sink.

“You looked good Saturday night.” I am surprised by his compliment. “You were there?” I say shocked.

“No, I wasn’t there. Someone sent me a picture,” Braden answers reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his phone. Scrolling down, he then holds it up to show this picture. I take the phone out of his hand, studying it.

“Who sent you this?’

“I don’t know. It said ‘unknown,'” he responds sadly, lowering his head. “Just like the other one.” My head bolts up at his comment.

“What other one? Show me.” I push his phone back into his hands. “I can’t,” he says still looking at the old white ceramic tile. “It was on my other phone. I smashed it, though.”

My stomach drops as I prepare to ask, “What was the picture of?” He shakes his head as he begins walking backwards.

“Answer me,” I demand in a loud voice.

“I can’t,” he murmurs as he hurries out the door.

“Fuck!!!” I yell as I follow behind him. Yanking him by the arm, he turns around quickly, pulling his arm from my grip.

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