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Photography class was boring, once again.

Since everyone else in the class had handed in their projects, it meant we no longer had time to work on them in class. Which meant that instead of Chase sitting beside me, he was all the way across the classroom.

I could still see him though, he was in the front row while I was in the back. He was focused on what the teacher was saying, so it seemed.

I was anything but focused.

I was too busy replaying all the moments I had lived through in the last twenty four hours, almost all of them involving Chase. I was thinking about how he made me feel; he somehow made me feel so much, while at the same time he made me feel less.

He made me feel giddy, like a little girl with an earth shattering crush. Yet, at the same time, he made me feel less... less pain, less grief. Less helplessness, less loss. When I was around him, when his hands were on my body and his lips were on my mouth, when he was smiling at me, when he was speaking to me, I forgot that I was in pain. I forgot that I was grieving.

And, while I was thankful for that, I felt guilty.

In the weeks after I lost Isla, I thought those feelings would have been my life forever. I felt like I was destined to never escape the soul crushing knowledge that she was dead and I wasn't. She was in another world and I wasn't, I was here.

And, maybe I felt like I owed that to her. Maybe, I felt like living in that pain kept her close to me.

I rubbed my hand against my head as the bell rang, trying to make sense of my confusing thoughts.

I gathered my books, standing and making my way towards the classroom exit. I was still lost in my own mind, but as if I had an alarm in my skin, I could practically sense Chase's proximity.

"That was an interesting class," he said to me, smiling down. We began walking together, him slowing his strides down to match mine. His eyes were twinkling, the same way they had been when he saw me this morning.

"Oh, yeah," I muttered, shaking my head. Truth be told, I didn't even know what the class was about.

Chase's lips pursed as he observed me, "everything okay?"

I hesitated, wondering how much I should tell him. "I was just thinking about Isla."

Chase's eyebrows raised, just for a second, like he trying to control his reaction. I knew why. I barely spoke about Isla to him. Sure, I'd spoken to him about my grief, but I've never spoken directly about her. I barely even said her name, unless I was speaking to Bella.

"You know," Chase said slowly, "you can always talk to me about her, Indie. I know I didn't know her well, and I know I won't have the words to comfort you completely, but I can listen. It might help."

"It's hard," I told him, as we arrived at our English classroom. "It's hard to talk about her. Sometimes it feels like talking about her just opens the wound that I'm trying to heal. And I know that's not true, but that's what it feels like."

Chase nodded, and he opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted.

"Indie," I heard Brock call my name, just seconds before he appeared at my side.

I turned to look at him, the smile that was clear across his face as he quickly ran his eyes up and down my body.

"Hey Brock," I let out, and I tried to shoot Chase a look that I hoped meant sorry, but Chase's eyes weren't on me anymore, they were focused on Brock. He wore the same expression that he wore the other day when he looked at Evan. Like he knew the boys were up to no good.

I made a mental note to tell Chase that things had changed between Brock and I, that he wanted to be friends now. And that I was actually glad he made that decision, because so far he had been a good friend.

"You weren't in class yesterday," Brock said, he didn't even glance in Chase's direction.

"Yeah, I know," I told him, looking between the two of them. "Chase and I went to work on our project."

"Chase?" Brock echoed his name, like he had no idea who I was speaking about. I gestured towards Chase, not understanding how Brock didn't see him there beside me.

"Yeah, this is Chase," I said awkwardly.

"Oh hey man," Brock finally said, his eyes meeting Chase's for only a second. "Indie, should we go to our seats?"

I nodded, turning back to Chase. "I'll see you tonight."

Chase finally moved his eyes from Brock, the scowl still on his face. "Tonight," he let out the singular word, before he turned and walked towards his seat.

"So," Brock let out as we found our own seats. "How are you? I heard about the fight you had with Evan. Man, I hate that guy."

"Me too," I agreed, sliding into my seat. "I shouldn't have gone off on him like that in the hallway. I was just... I don't know."

Brock nodded, "no, he deserved it. He really didn't even check in with you at all?"

"No," I shook my head, dropping my voice down to a whisper as our teacher began speaking. "I guess he did deserve it."

"How did you sleep last night?" Brock asked me, and I was confused for a second, wondering what he was asking, before I remembered that just the night before I had ended up at his house, telling him all my troubles.

"Actually, I slept really well," I told him, fighting the blush that threatened to cloud my face as I remembered just how well I slept in Chase's arms.

"Good," Brock whispered, smiling at me. "I'm glad, Indie. Though, I was less lonely with you in my bed. I wanted to tell you actually, it was nice to be able to talk to someone about my parents. You know, someone who gets it. Most of my friends just say how lucky I am that my parents aren't involved in my life."

"I know what you mean," I said, remembering all the times that had happened to me. "You can always talk to me about that stuff, Brock. I understand how it feels."

"Yeah, you do," Brock said, and I detected a hint of something in his voice, something I couldn't decipher. "Maybe I should have settled for being friends with you a lot sooner."

I covered my mouth, trying not to let my laugh bother the kids around us. "Maybe you should have."

"So, friend to friend," Brock continued, glancing at the teacher to make sure he hadn't noticed our whispered conversation. "Anything you need to talk about?"

I sighed, "is it that obvious?"

"Maybe not for anyone who's not looking hard enough," he told me, "so, spill. What's on your mind?"

I hesitated, just like I had done with Chase. But, maybe Chase was right. Maybe talking about it would help, and it was probably better to talk to someone who wasn't who I was feeling guilty about liking.

"I'm... I don't know, I'm struggling with feeling guilty. Or, rather, whether or not I should feel guilty," I explained poorly.

"Guilty about what? Did you rob a bank?" Brock teased me.

I smiled. "No, nothing illegal. I don't know. Let's say..." I chose my next words carefully, not wanting to give away who I was speaking about. "Let's say that I was growing feelings for someone."

Brock smiled at my words, just a small one, and I wasn't sure why.

"What's wrong with that? Why would you feel guilty about that?" He asked me, his smile had dropped back to his serious expression.

"It feels... I guess it feels too soon," I told him, hoping he would understanding what I was saying without me having to say the words.

It took a second, it seemed, by the way his eyebrows furrowed, but then a look of understanding passed his face. "Oh, because... because of everything that happened."

"Yeah," I nodded, "because of everything that's happened."

"Well," Brock started, seemingly thinking of what he wanted to say. "I don't think it's too soon."

"You don't?" I asked him, feeling relief at his words.

"No," he shook his head. "Feeling something for someone doesn't mean that you can't feel anything else. It doesn't meant that you can't still feel sad about what happened."

I titled my head, absorbing his words.

"Growing feelings for someone else doesn't take away your feelings for anyone else," Brock continued. "It doesn't mean your feelings about what happened are any less important."

I turned his words around in my mind, "who knew you were so wise, Brock?"

He chuckled, his smile forming on his face again, and my own lips mirrored his. "Glad I could help."

"Mr. Hanson, Miss. Adams," our teacher's voice caused my to snap my head up towards the front. "Do you care to share with the class what is so amusing? I'm sure it can't be what we're all discussing."

I felt my cheeks turn red, as my eyes wandered over the faces of the rest of our class. They were all turned back in the chairs, staring towards Brock and me.

Everyone, except one. As my eyes scanned the front row, Lauren and Asher's annoyed faces looking back at us, I could only see the back of Chase's head. He was staring straight ahead of him, his eyes trained on the empty blackboard.

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