His After The Heartbreak (BL)
Chapter 220: Sharing Same SeatBelt

Chapter 220: Sharing Same SeatBelt

Chapter 220- Sharing Same SeatBelt

LOGAN’S POV

"Dad, answer me!"

My voice wasn’t loud at first, but I could already feel it rising with every second he kept that blank face on.

"Why is Tyler’s mom saved on your phone like that?" I held the phone up, showing him the contact again. "With a heart emoji? Your Heart? Really?"

He didn’t even flinch.

"Is something going on between you two that I don’t know about?"

He still didn’t answer me.

Typical.

He always did this — stayed quiet and let me figure things out on my own. But not today. Not with this.

I stepped closer, my voice shaking now — from anger, confusion. All of it.

"If you don’t tell me right now, I swear, I’m not getting on that bus. We’ll go back home. I don’t care how embarrassing it is. I’ll make a scene, I promise you."

He finally moved. Lifted his head a little, like he was just now deciding to acknowledge my existence.

Then he spoke. Calm.

"Do as you like, Logan," he said, folding his arms. "If you don’t get on the bus, you’ll just repeat the trip. You’ll take the same lectures with your juniors. Meanwhile, your mates will move on without you."

He gave me that cold smirk of his. "You know money isn’t the problem for me. You can repeat a million times and I’ll pay a million times. So go ahead. Do whatever you like."

My blood boiled.

"So now you can talk, huh?" I snapped.

He raised an eyebrow.

I stepped in again. "So just because I threatened to not go on the trip, now your mouth suddenly works? But when I asked you why you saved Tyler’s mom’s name with a heart, you had nothing to say?"

He didn’t answer that.

Of course not.

"You do realize Tyler’s dad is here, right?" I said. "How do you think he’d feel if he finds out that you’re hooking up with his ex-wife?"

"He might still have feelings for her. You know that," I went on. "And you... You’re not just talking to her. You’re banging her, aren’t you?"

Still nothing from him.

No reaction.

His silence was starting to feel like a punch in the face.

I was getting more and more worked up.

"What do you think Tyler would say if he knew? Huh?" I asked. "That the guy he has to sit beside and partner with this whole week has a dad who’s screwing his mother?"

That one hit. I saw it in his face.

Still, he stayed quiet.

"If you don’t answer me right now, I promise you — I’m not getting inside that bus."

I waited.

Seconds passed. He finally spoke.

"Don’t be disrespectful to her," he said, firm and sharp. His eyes narrowed like he was daring me to talk about her again.

I stared at him.

"That’s supposed to be your answer?" I said. "That’s your whole explanation?"

He clenched his jaw but didn’t say anything else.

"So now you’re defending her?" I asked. "You’ve been with her that long already?"

He turned his face, like he didn’t want me to see his expression.

I stepped around him so he’d have no choice but to look at me.

"Are you seriously asking because you are worried for Tyler’s dad... or you are worried that Tyler and you won’t be able to continue your lovey dovey together?" He asked me with his voice filled with mockery.

It was like he’d read my thoughts.

I didn’t answer that. I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

"That’s none of your business," I said coldly.

He smiled. "Exactly. So what’s your business with what’s happening between me and her?"

"My business," I said, "is what happens when this blows up in your face. When your best friend finds out you’re sneaking around with his ex-wife like a damn teenager."

I leaned in. "Imagine how Tyler’s dad would feel if I walk up to him right now and show him this," I waved the phone again, "and tell him you saved his ex-wife with love emojis."

My dad’s expression changed fast. "That’s none of your business. Do not dare."

I smirked.

"What are you gonna do if I do dare?" I asked. "Ground me?"

He didn’t answer.

I lowered my voice. "If you don’t want me to go say something to him, then say something to me. Tell me the truth."

He groaned and looked away.

"Didn’t you have a trip to go on?" he muttered, trying to brush me off. "Why are you stressing me over something that isn’t your—"

He stopped mid-sentence.

I blinked.

He looked behind me.

Someone was calling my name.

"Logan?"

I turned.

It was the principal.

"Are you seat number five?" she asked me, her voice sweet like she was offering me candy.

I quickly checked the small card I was given earlier. My name. My number. Of course it was seat five. Just my luck.

I forced a smile, even though my jaw was tight with anger. "Yes, that’s me."

She nodded politely. "Alright. We were calling your number, but you didn’t answer, so we had to confirm."

Then she smiled at me like she hadn’t just interrupted the most uncomfortable argument of my life.

"Please get in the bus so we can move to the next person," she added with that calm, soft tone school staff always use.

I looked over at my dad, then back at her.

"Uh, Ms. Agnes, just one moment," I said, trying not to sound rude. "I’ll be inside in a jiffy. Just need to finish something with my dad. You can go ahead with the other students."

She didn’t budge.

"I’m so sorry, Logan, but we can’t move to the next student until you get in," she said, still smiling. "All the seats are locked in order. Everyone has to be seated in their exact number before we move to the next person."

I dragged a hand over my face and sighed. Loudly.

She just stood there, smiling like some kind of seat-belt angel of doom.

I dropped my hand from my face and turned to look at my dad again.

He looked so damn satisfied. Like he’d just dodged a bullet.

"Fuck it," I muttered under my breath.

Why the hell did I have to be seat number five?

Out of thirty seats, why couldn’t I be number twenty-nine? Or even better, thirty, so I could take my sweet time?

"Why the fuck do I have to be seat number five?" I whispered to myself again, shaking my head as I reached for my little carry-on bag. My main luggage had already been packed in the storage section of the bus earlier.

"Move fast, son," my dad said cheerfully. "The others are waiting for you."

I wanted to throw my bag at him.

I just turned to him with the coldest glare I could manage. "This isn’t over," I said sharply. "We’re going to talk about this when I get back. And next time, you won’t be able to run from it."

He didn’t even flinch. Just waved at me like I was going on vacation.

"Bye, son! We’re going to miss you," he called out.

"Jerk," I muttered under my breath.

I turned away and started walking toward the bus. My fists were clenched. I was tired of this trip already, and it hadn’t even started. I just wanted to get in, throw my bag, sit down, and pretend none of this morning ever happened.

But the universe wasn’t done messing with me yet.

Because the moment I stepped onto the bus, the first thing I saw...

Was him.

Tyler.

Standing right next to seat.

Of course.

Of fucking course.

He looked at me and smirked like nothing was wrong with the world.

"You can go in," he said casually. "I was waiting for you to enter first."

I stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. "Are you serious right now?"

He blinked. "What?"

"You came here before me," I said slowly. "So the only one who should enter first is you."

He crossed his arms. "Well, I’m not going in."

"Cool," I said, tossing my bag on the floor beside me. "Then we’ll both stand here like idiots."

I leaned against the seat, refusing to move an inch. I wasn’t about to be the one who backed down first.

Tyler narrowed his eyes at me. I could tell he thought I was bluffing.

Then he kissed his teeth and rolled his eyes. "You’re such a pain in the ass."

I didn’t even respond.

I just looked past him like he wasn’t even there.

He finally groaned and slid into the seat with a dramatic sigh, like I’d just ruined his life.

I smirked. "The only pain in the ass here is you, but keep projecting."

I sat down next to him, careful to leave as much space as possible between us. I wasn’t in the mood to accidentally brush shoulders or breathe the same air.

But clearly, fate had other plans.

"I’m so sorry," Ms. Agnes said suddenly from behind us, her voice cheerful and apologetic all at once, "but you both need to sit very close to each other."

Tyler and I turned our heads at the same time.

She gave a nervous laugh. "You’re sharing the same seat belt. So... you’ll have to sit tight."