BROOKLYN

Summer is a wallflower. Brooklyn is the it boy.

Nobody ever thought that their paths would be intertwined, but suddenly the two teenagers get hurled into a mess of love, lust, drama and heartbreak, leaving them with marks that can't be erased.

*WARNING: Contains strong language and sexual references.

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5. Chapter 4

I spent the rest of the day trying to block everything out of my head. Every time anything involving Brooklyn and/or the things that happened in the cafeteria earlier today, I would just push it away immediately and try to focus on something else. I couldn't handle feeling this stupid and naive much longer. Both Vic and Hayley texted me a few times asking if everything was alright, and I had told them yes every single time. I didn't really have that many other people that cared about me at school, so it wasn't like my social media accounts were blowing up with messages from worried admirers.

 

It was about eleven when I decided to go to bed, just to lay there on my phone for a bit.

Suddenly a banner showed up on the top of my screen indicating that I had an incoming message on Facebook Messenger. Thinking it would just be Hayley or Vic as usual I clicked on it without thinking twice, but that's when I suddenly saw a name that had become way too familiar to me, making me freeze for a brief second.

Brooklyn Joseph Beckham.

Hesitantly I clicked on his message to read the whole thing, but there really wasn't much to it.

"U okay?"

I read the two words over and over again in my head like I suddenly didn't understand what it said, but I did. What I didn't get was why he'd messaged me. Why did it matter to him wether or not I was alright? Why wouldn't I be anyway? The last question was more directed towards myself than anyone else, and it had been like that since friday. Why was this even a big deal? That was the thing.

"I'm fine, thanx", I typed and pressed send after thinking about it way too much. Brooklyn really had got me roughed up for good. I couldn't even text him without feeling my heart pound like I was about to jump out of an airplane. My situation kind of felt like that too. Free falling.

 

It was like forever before I received yet another text with his name on it, making the adrenalin pump once again for absolutely no reason. Everything about him and what had happened between made me feel strange, and I wanted to give up on explaining it to myself. 

"What happened?" the text read. I knew exactly what incident he was referring to and I felt my cheeks burn once again. The embarrassment hadn't really passed.

"Idk. Not to sound rude, but why do u care?" I typed and pressed 'send' yet again.

My heart continuously pounded in my chest as I laid there in the darkness of my room, waiting for this boy to answer my texts. It was like a scene taken straight of out some corny teen movie. I sure did feel like a stereotype too. The nobody who fell in love with the gorgeous popular kid. Except the falling in love part of course, that would've been a tad weird and I wasn't sure I was able to handle any more of that.

My phone vibrated once again and I instantly picked it up from where I'd placed it on my mattress a minute ago, quickly reading through Brooklyn's response.

"Not sure."

 

For a while I just looked at my screen, not sure what to answer or if I should answer at all. Should I just play it off cool and let him hang for the night, or was he already trying to shut down the conversation himself? Was I bothering him by texting back? If he would be bothered by me texting him, I guess he shouldn't have texted me in the first place.

A sigh left my lips as I ran my fingers through my hair, feeling as ridiculous as ever. Then I finally just typed something and sent it.

"Right."

This time around it only took a few seconds for him to answer, catching me off guard.

"I never got to tell u, but I had a great time with u friday night."

I felt a rush in my stomach by the mention of the party. Had he thought about it too? What had happened between the two of us? I'd been brushing off the idea of him giving a shit ever since, but what if he did? What if he'd been stressing about it too?

No. He couldn't have. He wouldn't have been making out with that girl in the cafeteria if he really cared that much about that night. It was simple logic.

"Maybe it's best not to talk about it", I hesitantly typed, pressing 'send' before I could stop myself. Then I quickly turned off my phone and placed it on my nightstand, rolling onto my side and turning my back to it. As I closed my eyes, images of Brooklyn instantly showed up on my eyelids. His fingers tracing the side of my body, his warm breath on my neck, making my skin tingle.

With a groan I grabbed a hold of my cover and pulled it over my head in an attempt to make the images disappear. I knew that wasn't possible, though. Something had shifted within me and I had no idea of how to turn it back.

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