Chapter four

I couldn't take my eyes off her.

I still can't believe yesterday was real. I spoke to the most popular girl in Royalwood and actually enjoyed it. I wondered if she enjoyed talking to me as much as I enjoyed talking to her; she most likely did not.I was all sweaty and shaky, but I really did my best to control it and act cool.

Like she did.

But my effort was probably not good enough. I had to remember that I was stuttering and looked like a frog. She probably won't want to speak to me again, but I also had to remember that she was crying. I still couldn't believe that Cassy and I actually had something in common.

Who would have thought it would be an underrated musician like Richie Rod? The man has been in the music industry for more than ten years, yet I was certain that not more than three thousand people knew of his existence. and that was extremely low if you were to thrive in such a business.

But among those three thousand people were Cassy and I.

If I claimed to love Richie before, it was nothing compared to how much I did now.

Although I do wish our first conversation had started on a lighter note and with Cassy not in tears. For her sake, I sincerely wish Richie would turn up, because Cassy looked far worse than she did yesterday.

We were all out on the field waiting for the coach to arrive because we had a home run. I sat alone on the bare grass, picking at a few twigs and leaves and crushing them in my hands before throwing them away. My eyes found their way to Cassy, who was sitting on one of the benches facing the field with Brad and his friends by her side. Even though we all wore the same thing—yellow shirts and navy blue shorts—Cassy always stood out from the crowd.

She had her elbows propped on her bare thighs and her hand smashed against her right cheek as she stared off into the distance. Her mind was obviously in another place because she appeared lost. I could tell from the way her arousing lips stayed slightly ajar and how her eyes focused on nothing in particular.

It was sad how she was surrounded by so many people, yet none could see the sadness she was feeling. My eyes slid to Brad for a brief moment. He was laughing with his other guy friends, obviously oblivious to his girlfriend's situation.

It made me sick.

I highly doubted he even cared about her at all.

I didn't know how long I continued to stare at Cassy; time seemed to stop whenever she was around. Something told me she knew I was staring. She made no indication of it, but I could still feel it, you know.

I really am getting weirder by the day.

"Stop staring at my girl! You freak!" Brad yelled, forcing me to tear my eyes away from Cassy immediately. I didn't meet his eyes. I didn't meet anyone's. Rather, I kept it down and continued to pluck at the stems I found on the ground.

I could feel the eyes of the entire class on me, and that included Cassy's. She probably thought I was weird now, I wonder what she had going through her mind.

A part of me wanted to scream at Brad. I wanted to tell him to focus on his own girlfriend and ask her what was wrong and comfort her. She was more than an accessory you should have on your arm.

Finally, the coach came and we all did three laps around the field. I wasn't a sporty person like Brad and his crew, which was probably why I looked like I was about to pass out once we were done with the three laps.

I quickly got an excuse from the coach to get my inhaler. Yes, I was asthmatic, but it was only exercise-induced.

After receiving permission from the coach, I jogged out of the field and towards the boy's locker room. I took out my inhaler and, after pumping some air into my lungs, I returned the object that had saved my life on various occasions before returning towards the field.

But it seemed the universe had other plans for me because just before I could step foot on the field, a hand reached out and yanked my arm, pulling me into a corner. I was about to scream out for help when my hazel eyes aligned with a pair of silver ones.

Cassy.

I wanted to faint from our proximity. Our bodies were so close and our noses were almost touching. This would have been romantic if not for the fact that I was panting like a woman in labor.

"Hey, you okay?" She asked, her brows knitting as she stepped away from me for a bit.

"Yeah, I—I am fine," I stuttered, trying to get control of my breathing. "I should be the one asking you that. How are you doing?" The corners of her eyes were still red, and I could easily tell she had been crying for a while.

A huff left her mouth as she took out her phone from her pocket and began to show me some articles concerning Richie. "They say he's dead," she said quietly as I continued to scroll through the news feed.

"These are just rumors," I said, handing her back her phone.

"But what if it's true?"

I think I was possessed when I took a step towards her and grabbed her arms. They were like heaven in my hands. "Trust me, Richie is going to be fine."

I felt my blood freeze as her eyes slid somewhere behind me and widened. I knew who she was looking at before I let go of her arms and turned around.

Standing only a few feet away from us with his eyes set to kill, it was none other than Brad Henshaw.