Abigail's POV
The ringing of the school bell cuts through the tension in my chest, its shrill sound a much-needed escape from the events of the day. Relief floods over me as the sound vibrates through the halls, signaling the end of another school day.
I let out a shaky breath and gather my things, keeping my head down as I step into the crowded hallway. Students chatter and laugh, their voices blending into a hum that barely registers. My thoughts are elsewhere-back in the library, where I'd narrowly escaped a scene that could've been far worse.
When I finally reach my locker, I pause. My hand hovers over the lock as I glance around, scanning the sea of faces for any sign of Nathan or his friends. The coast seems clear.
The cold metal of the lock is oddly grounding as I spin the dial. I exhale slowly, trying to calm my nerves. The loud clang of the locker door opening startles me, even though I was the one to open it. My reflection in the polished surface of the door catches my attention.
I look disheveled, my hair slightly out of place and my eyes wider than usual. There's a lingering redness in my cheeks, and I wonder how much of it is from embarrassment and how much is from anger.
I push the thought away and focus on grabbing my books. One by one, I pull them out, stacking them neatly in my arms. My fingers graze the spine of a novel I've been meaning to read for weeks, but I hesitate. With everything going on, losing myself in a story feels impossible.
As I close the locker, the clang echoes down the now-emptying hallway. I take a deep breath, running a hand through my hair in an attempt to compose myself. I don't want anyone to see me like this-frazzled and on edge.
Stepping out of the school building, I'm greeted by the cool afternoon air. It brushes against my skin, soothing in its simplicity. The parking lot is bustling with students heading to their cars or climbing into waiting rides.
I walk to the curb and glance around, expecting to see Mom's familiar car pulling up to the usual spot. She's always here on time, ready with a warm smile and a quick hug. But today, she's nowhere to be seen.
I shift my weight from one foot to the other, glancing at my phone for any messages. Nothing.
The minutes drag on, and the once-bustling parking lot begins to empty. Cars pull out one by one, leaving behind an eerie silence that makes the space feel far larger than it is. I check my phone again, my heart sinking with each passing second.
Maybe she's stuck in traffic.
I try to convince myself it's nothing to worry about, but the knot in my stomach says otherwise. As the lot clears out completely, my anxiety grows. What if something happened to her?
A sudden rumble of an engine pulls my attention to the road. A sleek black car pulls up, and my stomach twists. Relief turns to unease as I recognize the driver.
Luca.
He rolls down the passenger-side window, his trademark grin lighting up his face. "Hey, Abigail," he calls, his voice warm and teasing. "Need a ride?"
I stiffen, clutching my bag tightly. "No, I'm fine. My mom's on her way."
"She's late," he says, leaning his arm casually against the doorframe.
I frown, glancing back at the empty lot. "She'll be here soon."
"Or," he counters, his grin widening, "you could let me give you a ride and save yourself the trouble."
"Thanks, but no thanks," I say firmly, turning my back to him.
Luca chuckles softly. "Suit yourself," he says before revving the engine and driving off.
I watch his car disappear down the road, a mixture of annoyance and relief settling in my chest. I don't need a ride from him-or anyone else. I'm perfectly capable of waiting.
But as the minutes tick by, doubt begins to creep in. The lot is completely deserted now, the sun dipping lower in the sky. I glance at my phone again. Still nothing.
That's when I hear it-the low, familiar growl of an engine. My stomach churns before I even see who it is.
Nathan's car glides into view, its sleek black paint gleaming in the fading light. He doesn't stop or slow down, but as he passes, he glances my way. His smirk is unmistakable, a silent taunt that makes my blood boil.
I clench my fists, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. He doesn't even say anything-just smirks and drives off, leaving a trail of tension in his wake.
The knot in my stomach tightens. This day just keeps getting worse.
With a frustrated sigh, I adjust the strap of my bag and step onto the sidewalk. If Mom isn't coming, I'll just have to walk. It's not like it's that far-thirty minutes at most.
The rhythm of my footsteps against the pavement is oddly calming, a steady beat that drowns out the chaos in my head. The cool breeze brushes against my skin, and for a moment, I let myself pretend everything is fine.
But ten minutes into my walk, the sound of an engine breaks through the quiet.
I glance over my shoulder, and my heart sinks.
It's Luca again.
He slows down, his car matching my pace as I continue walking.
"Still walking?" he calls out, his voice light and teasing.
I roll my eyes, not bothering to respond.
"Come on," he urges, pulling up closer. "It's getting late. Just let me give you a ride."
"I'm fine," I snap, quickening my pace.
"Abigail," he says, his tone softening. "Seriously. It's not safe for you to be out here alone. Let me help."
I stop walking, turning to face him. His car idles beside me, the engine humming quietly. His face is different now-less playful and more concerned.
"I said I'm fine," I repeat, though my resolve is starting to waver.
He leans closer, his gaze meeting mine. "Look, I get it. You don't want to rely on anyone. But sometimes, it's okay to accept help. I promise I won't bite."
I hesitate, chewing on my bottom lip. My feet ache from walking, and the road ahead seems to stretch on forever.
"Please," Luca says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just let me help you this once."
I glance down the empty road, weighing my options. The sun is setting, and the thought of walking the rest of the way in the dark sends a shiver down my spine.
"Fine," I say finally, stepping toward the car.
Luca leans over to unlock the door, and I slide into the passenger seat, the leather cool against my skin.
"See? That wasn't so hard," he says, his smile returning as he shifts the car into gear.
I buckle my seatbelt, leaning back against the headrest. "Just drive, Luca."
He chuckles softly but says nothing more as the car pulls onto the road. The hum of the engine fills the silence between us, and for the first time all day, I allow myself to relax.