CHAPTER THREE — WE MEET AGAIN.

Chapter Three.

WE MEET AGAIN.

Lauren's POV.

I turned the doorknob open, and walked in. Although, I'd left the bar, but Conrad's words never left me. What did he mean by it was only the beginning? That particular question kept ringing in my head.

“Where in the world have you been, Lauren?” my mother rushed to me, her voice was laced with concern. “We've looked for you all over the place, but we couldn't find you.”

“I am sorry,” I said, with downcast eyes. “I just needed a moment alone.”

“Are you sure?” she framed my face with her hands. “You shouldn't run off the way the did; I almost had a heart attack.”

“I am sorry.” I said, barely breathing the words. “However, can I go to my room now? I need to get some rest.”

“Agnes was here.” she said.

My skin crawled. “What?” I lifted my gaze to her.

“Yes. She came with Camille, and Anita.” she said, taking her hands off my face. “They were worried about you. You were supposed to be at her twentieth birthday. Why didn't you go?”

“Is that why they came here?” I asked, raising a brow.

“Why are you talking like this?” she asked. “Is there something going on between the both of you that I don't know about? Besides, isn't that enough reason for her to come check up on you? She was worried about you, Lauren.”

“And so what!” I asked, a flash of temper lighted my eyes. “Everyone keeps acting like they care about me, but they don't. I'm sick and tired of all the pretence.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, narrowing her gaze at the words. “What has come over you Lauren? Why are you saying things like this.”

“Because it's the truth.” I said, using a measured tone. “No one wants to say it, but I know it. Everyone keeps looking at me with those pitiful eyes. They only help me because they feel pity for me. I don't want that anymore.”

“And who's telling you these lies?” she asked. “No one does anything for you out of pity.”

“Oh please.” I rolled my eyes and gritted my teeth. “You can choose to deny it all you want, but I know it to be true. Or am I wrong Abby?”

I turned to face my younger sister.

“You keep trying to convince me to go out with you because you feel pity for me.” I added, tears burning in my eyes. “Tell me if I'm wrong.”

She turned her face away, showing that she didn't want to be brought into the conversation.

“You are wrong, Lauren.” my mother said, shaking her head. “No one looks at you with pitiful eyes. Everything we do, we do because we're a family.”

“Of course, what else was I expecting you to say?” I said, blinking back tears. “You'd definitely try to make me feel better by telling me more lies.”

I wiped my face with the back of my hand.

“You asked who was telling me all these lies, right?” I asked, trying to steady my voice. “Well, guess what? It's you.”

“Shut up!” she yelled, and hit me on face. “I won't have you talk to me that way. It doesn't matter how much you've grown, you'll always be my child, and you'll listen to me.”

I put a hand on my face, while blinking back tears. Rather than the pain I was supposed to feel for being hit, all I felt was the roughness of my skin. Although, I didn't mean for my words to come out the way it did, but thinking that I'd become a murderer in just a few minutes, was about to drive me insane.

“You know what?” she said, her voice broke in on my thoughts. “You should be happy that they decided to come down here to check up on you even though you didn't show up at her birthday party. Do you think friends like them are easy to come by these days?”

“I have had enough for today.” I said, in a low, pained voice. “So, if you'll excuse me, I've to get some rest now.”

I walked past her, and went straight into my room. As I got in, I shut the door behind me, and allowed my body to sag against it for a few seconds as tears rolled down my cheeks.

After a while, I moved away from the door, and walked to my bed. I laid on it, pulled up my blanket to my chest, turned off the lamp on the bedside table and closed my eyes.

The following day, as I walked through the hallway, I heard the sound of the bell, indicating the end of the previous lecture, and beginning of the next.

I quickened my pace to get to my homeroom for the next lecture. I'd missed the previous one because I overslept, I couldn't afford to miss the next.

“Lauren?” — the voice came from behind.

I paused, and turned back. Approaching me were Camille whom I was certain called my name, Anita and Agnes whose faces was scrunched up.

I waited for them to get to where I was, and before long, they did.

“Are you just coming?” Camille asked.

“Of course, she is.” Agnes remarked before I could utter a word.

She hissed, and then went her way. I knew that she would. I mean, it wasn't the first time she was doing something like that.

Any time there was an argument between the both of us, she would choose to ignore me. Sometimes for a day, and other times it could be for a week.

I didn't want it to come to that, and that was the more reason why I wanted to show up at her birthday party. Unfortunately, I found myself in the very situation that I was trying to avoid.

“What happened?” Camille asked, in a curious voice. “Why weren't you at Agnes's birthday party last night? You gave your word that you would be there, but you didn't show up. You can only imagine how mad she is at you. We even had to check up on you last night only to be told by your mom that you left the house in anger.”

“Oh, there she is. Lauren the scarred.” Tracey giggled as she walked by with two other girls.

I drew in a deep, calming breath with my eyes closed and fist clenched.

“I heard she refused to show up at Agnes's birthday party because of the scar, do you know if it's true?” one of the girls walking with Tracey said.

“What?” Camille crinkled her face at the words. “Is it true? Did you refuse to show up at Agnes's birthday party because of the scar on your face?”

I buried my face in my hair as my face grew warm with embarrassment. I wasn't new to Tracey's ploys because it was obvious that she put the other girls up to it. But I felt bad because I couldn't confront her.

“I am talking to you, Lauren.” Camille said, with an edge to her voice. “Is that the reason you decided not to show up? How many times do we have to tell you that you don't have to feel bad about your face? It wasn't your fault.”

“I will talk to her.” I lifted my face to Camille. “I am sure she'll understand.”

“Are you kidding?” she scoffed. “You've been friends with her for over three years, and you still don't know what kind of person Agnes is? You think she'll choose to understand whatever reason stopped you from showing up at her birthday last night? Wake up, Lauren!”

She snapped her fingers.

“It was her birthday, not some housewarming party.” she added.

“Lauren?”— the voice came from behind.

I turned around, and found Mrs Stephen standing at a distance. She was the school's dean.

Meanwhile, Camille and Anita went their way.

“Someone is here to see you.” Mrs Stephen said. “Come with me.”

She turned and led the way. I was tempted to ask of the person who'd come to see me because I wasn't expecting anyone to do so. Not even my mother.

Nonetheless, I knew better than to question her so, I quietly followed behind. Before long, we arrived.

“Go in,” she opened the library's door for me.

I slowly walked in, raking my eyes all over the place in search of the person that'd come to see me. Looking to the side, I paused in my tracks as I found a young man looking out through the window with both hands clasped behind him.

“Ahem,” I cleared my throat to announce my presence.

He turned around. “Did you get a good night rest?”

As we locked gazes, my heart sank.