Running Back To Him Read Online Free Page B

the chief rule—and she squashed it like a grape.
    I sniffle and toss the phone behind me.
    A few moments pass and I grab my phone from under the pillow and type in the empty box under Lucas old texts.
    ‘Hey,’ I type. I blow a huge sigh between my pursed lips.
    “Don’t do it,” I mumble to myself. I can’t be this desperate. He treated me like trash. And I want to text him? The two of them are probably parked somewhere making out in the back of her Range Rover and here I am stressing myself out over him. I’m an afterthought to him…to the both of them. And I’m worrying stressing over them, dozens of gray hair probably sprouting from my scalp by the second.
    I delete the text and his number from my phone so I don’t get any funny ideas when I’m at another low point. Which I’m sure I’ll soon be. Sucks that I’ve had his number memorized since the day he gave it to me.
    “Ugh!” I shout clutching my phone. What gives! These walls will close in on me if I don’t leave. I could make a trek to Justine’s place, but she’s just started her shift at Chipotle.
    There’s usually one thing that’s guaranteed to take my mind off anything that’s freaking me out. And that’s finding new records to add to my growing vinyl collection. The used vinyl shop is the only place that I know no one from school would be caught dead at. Usually the people there are twice my age.
     
    It usually reeks of mothballs and stale Pledge there, but call me weird—I love the smell. And I can totally get lost in the countless rows of records, digging for that dusty musical treat. Finding a new record is one of the highlights of my life. That was one thing I couldn’t shake if I tried. Some people were a fiend for the first cigarette in the morning. Me? I was addicted to collecting vinyl. It was a weekly addiction. Sometimes twice a week. And it was something I did alone. Ashley and the other girls never wanted to join me. There’s no one to gossip about and they were afraid to get their fingers dusty. Justine wouldn’t either. Escaping there was perfect.
    I pulled door handle on Jellybeans Used Records and it won’t open. I peek inside and the lights are off and no one is inside. The ‘closed’ sign in red letters flashes in the corner of my eyes.
    Closed for repairs. Will reopen This Monday.
    I pound my fist into my upper thigh. “Pooh you Jellybeans!” I scream. Just when I need them most. Quelling my vinyl fix has been on my mind on all day long and I’m not going to let it end here. Next stop: the mall.
    ***
    After scouring through the hip-hop section for any new vinyl releases at Urban Outfitters, I find two gems to add to the collection: Midnight Marauders by A Tribe called Quest and Illmatic by Nas. Both classic albums from the early nineties.
    After I purchase the new goodies, out of the corner of my eye I see Kellen standing in front of the polo shirt section. My heart rate ramps up to a breakneck speed.
    “What do you mean…he’s here ? Who?” Justine asks me from over the phone. I’m hiding behind a rack of clearance bathing suits and multi-colored beach volleyballs trying to conceal my presence.
    “Just what I said! He’s…here,” I say frantically. “Red alert! Red alert! Justine he’s here. At the mall. I’m in Urban Outfitters. I just came here to buy some records and he’s…here. I think I’m gonna hyperventilate.” I try to quiet my shivering voice, but my bones are rattling from a mixture of terror and excitement. “What do I do?” My breathing creeps to a quick wheezing. I reach into my purse for my inhaler and then I remember I don’t have asthma. OMG I’m such a steaming puddle of mess.
    “Don’t seizure up on me. Just make sure you don’t swallow your tongue. The eagle has landed?”
    “Kellen. Is. Here” My voice squeaks above the Taylor Swift pelting through the speakers. Kellen hears his name and turns around. I duck down, crouching beneath the rack. “Oh my God. I