Not In That Way *Completed*

There is always that one little thing that can keep a person stable. That one little thing that makes a person feel alive. The thing that can make a person smile even when they are having a bad day.

For Cora Smith that thing is more like a someone. Her someone is Zachary Dawson. Her long time best friend and the person that saved her when her life was in shambles. For years, she has been battling for his attention against all the other girls around her. However, little did she know she had him wrapped around her little finger since the very beginning.

Join Cora on her journey in discovering the truth about Zachary, while all the while she is consumed with the fear that, in the end, the only words she will hear from him are, "I'm sorry, believe me, I love you, but not in that way......"

*Based on the song, "Not in That Way" by Sam Smith*


22. Chapter 21

 It was so easy when I could simply hide from everyone. It was even easier when I didn't have any responsibilities what so ever. I used to have my life in order. I used to be able to live my life without having to worry where I was going to sleep at night. That isn't the case now. 
        Once again, I am left wandering the streets without a clue of where to actually go. I rack my brain in an attempt to find an idea.

        I need to go home....

But that's the problem, where is home? 

        With Zach? No.

        But is there really anywhere else I can go? I can go to my old home. It shouldn't be a crime scene anymore, right? 

A car horn jolts me from my thoughts and I hurry across the rest of the road. I was so consumed with my thoughts that, unknowingly, I had walked into the middle of the street. I look at the houses surrounding me and find myself standing in front of Zach's house. I bite my lip in hesitation. 

        Should I go inside?

        No, I can't.

        I turn and walk a few steps away, but hesitate yet again. 

        Maybe I could run in and grab a change of clothes before anyone even notices. 

I look back at the house and realize that there isn't anyone home. I take out my phone and check the time. 1:20 pm. No one will be home for an hour. 

        "Fuck it." I whisper and jog slowly towards the house. 

        I get to the front door and realize that I didn't have a key. I groan at my stupidity and pray that they left their spare key in the same place. I search under the welcome mat by the front door and notice that the key is no where in sight. Letting out a long breath of air, I decide to go around to the backyard and try the back door. Thankfully, the door is open and I silently slip through. Once inside, I hurry up the stairs and into the place I once called my room. The door is already open and I rush over to the dresser pulling out a set of clothes. I jog into the bathroom and decide that taking a quick shower wouldn't hurt. Turning on the water, I run back into the room and throw the clothes that are in the suitcase into the hamper and place the suitcase back into the closet. I believe that traveling lighter would be a better decision anyway, so I grab my old backpack and empty it our onto the desk. After, I fill the back pack with my essentials, I go back into the bathroom and begin my shower. I scrub all the dirt off of my body and quickly wash my hair. All the while, I attempt to decide where the best place to go would be. Finishing up my shower, I change into a new set of clothes and grab my back pack off the bed. I rush downstairs to the kitchen and quickly grab a few fruits and some leftover pizza from the fridge. Heading to the back door, a flash of pink catches my eye. Looking at the counter, I find an envelope with my name on it. Quickly taking it and ripping it open, I discover that it is a letter from the state requesting my presence on the set court date. Which is three days from now.

I am expected to testify.

I am supposed to tell everyone of the disgusting things my father did to me. I have to tell them everything and in the end it's possible he may not even be declared guilty. Staring down at the paper in my hands I feel the tears building up in my eyes. My breath comes out in short bursts and I can feel my chest nearly caving in on itself. 

I have no idea how I will be able to share these details. I can barely even think of sharing these details with Zach and now it is required of me to testify or he will not be tried. I feel the beginnings of a panic attack coming on, when a sudden click of a lock leaves me bolting for the back door. With tears blinding my eyes, I finally decide to return the one place I felt any sort of happiness after my mom died. My tree house.

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