Neither do I.
Guess I passed that test.
I resume preparing for an essay for Romeo and Juliet, making notes. Writing and rewriting my introduction sentence. It occupies my time for the rest of the period, and I’m startled when Matthews announces, “You’re dismissed. Have a nice weekend.”
Everyone quickly gathers their things. Matthews walks over to the window and shuts it, cutting off the cold wind blowing through. “No wonder she caught a cough,” I hear him say.
Huh. Maybe he’s not so bad. Still don’t trust him though.
I’m about to head out of the classroom when I realize Elliot is right there, glaring at me. He falls into step beside me, keeping pace as I hurry down the hall. Run down the stairs.
He never says a word, which is creepy. I’d rather he give me a bunch of shit.
“Go away,” I tell him once we’re outside. No one else is around. The sun is completely gone, masked by the ominous black clouds in the sky, and thunder rolls in the near distance.
“No one’s around to save you now,” he says with a big grin.
“I don’t need to be saved. I’ll just knee you in the balls again,” I retort.
He takes a step back. “Why are you like this?”
“Like what?”
“Such a bitch.”
I turn and start walking, the wind pressing against me, making it a struggle. I hate this guy. I don’t know why I’ve suddenly become a target, but he makes me uneasy. And he’s right.
There’s no one around to save me.
I make my way toward the dorms, picking up my pace. I can hear Elliot behind me, screaming obscenities, the words lost in the impending storm. Water droplets hit me, one after the other, and I realize it’s raining.
I begin to run.
Within minutes, I’m inside the girls’ dormitory, the door tightly shut. I turn and face the window, watching as Elliot approaches. My newfound jogging habit has made me faster, but I’m panting heavily, my heart racing triple time.
He marches right up to the window and bangs on the door, making me jump. He grins, the wind blowing his dark hair across his forehead, his jacket flapping open. I take a step back, my mouth dry as he runs his finger across his throat and then points at me.
Just before he turns and walks away.
Eight
Summer
The storm doesn’t last long. It dumps rain for approximately thirty minutes, just enough to stir up the football field and make it nice and muddy for tonight’s game. I sit at my window in my dorm room and watch it fall, homesick.
But I have no home to return to. Not really. Even if I begged my mother to let me come back, I wouldn’t feel comfortable in that apartment. Not with all the memories there. The family photos. The little shrine she made for Jonas and Yates. She sent me a photo of it last week, and I found it so odd that she’d do such a thing. Photos of each of them on a small table. Candles burning, a sign with the Lord’s Prayer on it and hands clasped together. A thick black Bible rested on the table as well.
We don’t go to church. We don’t really pray. I’m not sure why she would make such a religious tribute to them, but maybe she’s dealing with her own guilt.
I understand that. Far more than she even knows.
I watch from my window as droves of students head for the football field for tonight’s game. So many, I feel confident in leaving my dorm in search of food in the dining hall once the game starts. No one is in there, save for a couple of very young-looking students, all of them I assume are freshmen, and they’re clustered together at a table, whispering furiously, watching me with suspicious gazes as I walk by them.
They probably know I’m the enemy too. And they’re freaking freshmen.
With no one else around—such as Whit and his posse of henchmen and herd of sheep—I’m able to grab a fresh salad and soup, and I eat it in peace, my AirPods in, watching a new series on Netflix.
Once I’m finished, I head back to my room and change into leggings and a hoodie, then tie on my favorite running shoes. It’s pitch black out, but the storm is over, and everyone’s at the game.
No one will bother me.
My AirPods still in, I jog my way through the gardens, the lights above the many statues casting them in a golden glow. They’re beautiful. A delicate angel. A weeping woman. An angry young man, his face angled as if looking in the distance, his jaw hard.
He reminds me of Whit.
They all do. Aching beauty etched in stone. Cold and unfeeling. Though every time he touches me, I feel nothing but heat. Fire from his fingertips, incinerating me.
Making me burn.
I jog faster, my heart rate kicking up as I make my way toward the forest. It’s so dark. Darker than usual, thanks to the clouds still lingering in the sky, and I squint into the night, trying to see. My feet pound on the pebbled trail beneath me, and as long as I stay dead center, I won’t lose my way. I can see the white pebbles, even in the darkness.
The path winds through the thicket of trees that lines the campus and separates it from the beach. Even with my AirPods in, I can hear the pounding surf, the waves riotous, the sea angry from the storm. I turn off the music and stop, breathing heavily, absorbing the rhythmic sound.
If I walked into the swirling water right now, no one would miss me if I disappeared. The school would most likely have a party, led by Whit. My mother would be sad, and add my photo to her shrine, but otherwise she’d move on. Everyone would tell her she was so strong.
And she is. But maybe all that strength is a mask for what she really is.
Devoid of emotion. Exhausted.
I don’t know which.
The ocean tempts me, especially after such a harrowing day, but after a few minutes of listening to the waves, even taking a few steps toward them, I turn away from the beach path, and head back toward campus. I tell myself I’m stronger than that. If I walked into that water and let it swallow me, then they would win. And while I told Whit it wasn’t a game, maybe he was right after all.
Life is one big game, and I’m too young to give in. I can’t lose.
Not yet.
Knowing I was tempted yet didn’t succumb, somehow makes me feel stronger. Gives me more power. I keep my pace steady as I head back toward the campus, choosing the trail that jags to the right and doesn’t meander through the gardens. Instead I run through a tunnel made of towering trees and bushes, and they come across at the top, creating a canopy over the trail that I’m sure is refreshing during the summer.
Not that I’ll ever witness it. Summers in Newport. Summers on campus. They offer a program, but I didn’t attend, and soon I’ll graduate. I’ll never have to look at this campus again come the beginning of June. I’ll have my diploma in hand and leave with my head held high.
Hopefully. If they don’t break me first.
They won’t. I won’t let them. I won’t let him.
A crack of thunder sounds overhead, startling me and I make a little noise, picking up my pace. Rain starts to fall in steady sheets, lightning shining in the sky again and again, accompanied by furious rolls of thunder, and I realize I’m putting myself at serious risk out here.
I could get struck by lightning, electrocuted on sight. Farfetched, but knowing my luck lately, entirely possible.