My Dreams, His Reality Trilogy

Chapter 13

Book 1 Chapter 13- 02

I sat up on the bed, ready to drink the hot chocolate he made for me. He makes the best hot chocolates in the world. Whenever any of us had a bad day or got upset, he always made us hot chocolate. He is thoughtful that way.

My mom had other ways of coping with hormonal and distressed family members. She hugs them and listens to them patiently, before taking us out for our favorite treat.

My family is great that way.

I took the mug from his hands. He chuckled at my eagerness.

"Are you ok, Zara?"

I wondered how they decided which one of my parents would come and talk to me. Last time something like this happened, they played a game of rock, paper and scissors. The thought brought a small smile on my face.

The best thing about my dad is that he knows exactly when to give space and what questions to ask. His soft blue looked at me with concern. The blue eyes I get from him.

I gave him another small smile and nodded my head.

"You know we are here for you, right? Whatever happens, you can always come and talk to your mother and me. We won't ever judge you."

"I know." I smiled brightly at the man who has been my hero ever since I could remember.

"Was it a boy?"

I hesitated before answering and looked down towards the mug in my hands. I could never lie to him. He always had the uncanny ability to know whenever any of us lied.

He sighed. "I won't dictate your life, Zara. But I do trust that you will make the right decisions for yourself."

I nodded my head and gave him another smile. "You can trust me."

"I know, Zara. I know." He smiled back and kissed my forehead. "Good night, kiddo. Don't let these boys get to your head. They aren't worth it."

With that, he ruffled my hair and laughed at my annoyed expression. Giving me another kiss on the forehead, he walked out of my room.

What can I say, I am a daddy's girl!

***

The next day at school was pretty boring, if I say so myself. I had bravely battled through three periods, keeping my head high and warding off any signs of sleep.

The downside with the last period before lunch was that I didn't have either of my friends in it. So, it had just changed from boring to super boring.

And the teacher, who I was pretty sure, was going through a mid-life crisis, was droning on and on about algebraic equations, which no one gives two shits about. Remind me why I thought taking AP English for my final year would be nice. Right, extra credit, of course!

I groaned.

Loudly.

Quite loudly.

So much so that the teacher stopped talking, the class was silent and everyone was looking directly at me.

Kill. Me. Now.

My cheeks burned from embarrassment at the sudden attention and I even heard a few snickers coming from the slackers seated in the back. I so wanted to glare at them but I refrained from doing so because I knew Mr. Andrews had something to say about the disruption. Great.

"Miss Hemming, is everything ok?" Mr. Andrews arched an eyebrow. If he was trying to look intimidating then I must say, he failed. A middle aged man wearing khaki trousers with a pot belly could hardly look intimidating with a raised eyebrow.

Instead of telling him exactly that, I smiled inwardly as a plan began to form in my head.

I groaned again and clutched my stomach as if I was going to puke my guts out any second. "No, sir." Add a little stutter to make it a little more believable. "S- stomach cramps."

He flushed in embarrassment. What is with guys evading the topic of us females bleeding?

But the sadistic part in me was enjoying his discomfort. He cleared his throat before speaking again. "Would you like to go to the nurse's office or perhaps the washroom, Ms. Hemming?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

With that, I quickly gathered all my stuff, swung my bag on my shoulder and walked briskly out of the classroom.

I lifted my hands in the air as a form of victory against boring classes, when the door of the classroom closed behind me.

I am an evil genius. Cue evil laugh!

I roamed around the school hallways, carefully avoiding the hall monitor of the school.

The halls were pretty much deserted because all the students were in their respective classes and didn't have the right motivation to bunk them.

I headed to my locker, dumping my books and taking whatever I would need for lunch and the period after that.

In a way, it was soothing to find the hallways empty, when usually all one could see was people bustling and elbowing their way in a desperate attempt to get to their classes.

Taking note that I still had some time left, I walked slowly towards the girl's washroom. I could touch up my very basic makeup and check my messages while I was there.

I occupied one of the stalls and did my business.

Suddenly, the doors to the washroom opened and someone walked in. I couldn't hear the click clack sound of heels, so I was pretty sure it was not some diva girl who would eat my brains about some new fashion trend she read somewhere in a magazine. Girls in my school were weird that way.

I opened the door of the stall and walked out, ready for some quiet time knowing the girl outside, most probably clad in sneakers or flat bellies, won't trouble me with mindless chatter.

But when I came out, I saw someone who I would have never talked to anyway and didn't really belong. At all. At least not in the girl's bathroom.

I stood there with my hand stretched towards the tap to wash my hands, when I looked sideways to find Harper Cain standing in the girl's washroom and looking at me with an unreadable expression.

I have had it with his intense expressions. Snapping out of my daze, I glared at him.

Yesterday night, after crying because of him, I resolved to revert back to my previous self who wouldn't give Harper the time of his day.

"Can I help you?" I could hear the ice in my tone and I was sure he didn't miss it too.

He took a deep breath, as if to collect himself before opening and closing his mouth several times.

"Look, I don't care for your apologies bec-"

"I, Harper Daniel Cain reject you, Zara Sophia Hemming, as my mate." His expression changed to one of immense pain as soon as the words left his mouth and his features distorted into one of utmost despair.

And with that, he barged out of the washroom leaving me behind, with my jaw hanging open.

Naturally, a number of questions sprang up in my mind.

How did he even know my middle name?

How did he have the nerve to enter a girl's washroom?

What the hell is a mate?

And last but the most important question in my head was, what the f**k just happened?