Tangled Love

My phone rings and the screen flashes with Mum's contact. I instantly feel sick as I replay the way Jake slammed Trevor's face into the floor. The crack and echo of the impact plays on a loop in my head. I close my eyes and inhale deeply, wondering whether Trevor is still alive. He certainly didn't look it when I last saw him.

I decline the call and a text message pops up seconds later. I grit my teeth together and turn my phone off, tossing it onto the bed. I really did not want to deal with that right now. Part of me is terrified for Trevor but the second half is pleased he experienced pain. 

Does that make me a sick individual? 

I wouldn't wish anyone to be hurt, especially by the hands of another human being. However I can't help feel like Trevor deserves it. I sigh, rubbing my temples with my hands. A soft knock on my bedroom door catches my attention —

"Come in," I say flatly, completely drained from the nights events. I'm surprised to see Tobias' face pop round my door, his eyes landing directly on me. He still hasn't apologised for his hurtful words and I'm starting to think he never will.

"What do you want?" I mumble and Tobias rolls his eyes which causes me to glare at him.

"The police are here."

ask him, sitting up straighter. Panic begins to brew inside my chest and I inhale deeply. Tobias doesn't respond and invites himself in, bounced down onto

Jake?"

say where he was going." Tobias responds, looking back up at me. His eyes meet mine and he tilts his head slightly

eyes fill with curiosity. I stare at him for a moment wondering whether I can

done anything."

and even I'm impressed with myself. Tobias scoffs, not believing

want to speak to you," Tobias adds, sounding extremely bored. I stand up, knowing this would happen. There's probably witnesses

rehearing inside my mind what I'll say to the police. As I'm walking out of the door, Tobias speaks again. His words cause

them the truth

turn to look back at him, noticing the intensity of his dark eyes. Without saying a word, I nod my head, telling him I understand. I can feel my palms begin to grow sweaty as I walk down the stairs, getting closer and closer to an interrogation by the police. I don't expect to turn

on the spot, my breathing hitching inside

same dark buzz cut, chiseled jaw line and icy blue eyes. . .