Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
She looks like a little fairy with pixie-like features, which I now notice are riddled with lines of tension.
“Oh, my god. I’m so sorry…” She bends down, and I take a step back, shaking my head.
It was an accident. There’s nothing malicious going on, I tell myself, yet all I can do is stare at her, my throat tightening with words that I want to say but can’t get out.
She extends her hand out to me, and I notice then that my pen rests against her palm. Almost angrily, I snatch it from her, making certain I don’t touch her hand.
“I apologize. I’m such a clutz. I really need to pay better attention to where I’m going.”
“It’s okay.” The words finally squeak past my lips.
The way she takes a step back, her features tightening with fear, I know whatever threat Quinton gave out must’ve been bad.
Before I can tell her everything will be okay, she rushes past me. I’m so flabbergasted by the interaction all I can do is stand there. My thoughts shift. I don’t want people afraid of me just because of Quinton.
I want people to leave me alone because they know better and because if they don’t, I’ll make them. I want to be strong enough to care for myself, not stand in someone else's shadow.
After a moment, I pull myself together and continue to the library. As soon as I step through the double doors, I exhale out all the negative energy. Looking ahead, I spot Brittney standing at the circular desk. She looks up as I approach, a smile on her face. While I’m always glad to see her, today, there’s an impending question on my mind. I fold my arms on the surface, leaning in and whispering.
“What was that really all about? The hack, I mean?”
Though we’re alone now that everyone is in class, Brittney’s eyes dart around like she’s looking to make sure nobody overhears us.
“It was Phoenix, and it was much more than a hack. The bomb in the stairwell was him too.”
“Shit, I knew it.”
Brittney frowns. “He swears he wasn’t trying to hurt anyone. He told me he paid off the janitor to place the bomb in the stairwell. He only wanted to talk to me since I’ve done everything I could to put distance between us.”
“Couldn’t he have found a better way? One that wouldn’t potentially kill us all?”
Her brows draw together. “I was certain I could fix the hack, but when he didn’t get a response from me, he detonated the bomb. I never thought he would take it that far. After that, I had no option but to talk to him, especially when he told me he had another placed somewhere else that he would detonate if I didn’t.”
I grit my teeth. “So you talked to him then? Is everything okay now?”
She shakes her head. “It’s okay for now. He wants to meet in person, so I have to meet him in the city. I told him I wouldn’t come if he did anything stupid like this again.”
I want to tell her not to go, but there’s no way around it. It’s either meet him or wait for another bomb to go off.
“He sounds extremely toxic.”
“Tell me about it. Now I have to get him to leave me alone without risking my job here or hurting anyone I care about.”
I’m both angry and sad for Brittney, but I have no idea how to help her with Phoenix. “You know I’ll help however I can.”
“I know you would help, but there isn’t anything you can do. Phoenix is my problem, and I’ll have to kick him like a bad habit.”
I smile, and she continues, “Anyhow, enough about me. It’s time for us to do some work. Can’t have Lucas thinking all we’re doing is reading and talking about our fictional book boyfriends.” Brittney smiles, her eyes twinkling.
“What ever do you mean?” I smirk back, the heaviness on my chest lifting instantly. “Romance novels are educational.”
“Ha, yes, very, but not the education you need.” She laughs, and though the last thing I’m in the mood for is pretending to concentrate, I follow along as dutifully as I can. At least it means spending time with a friend who cares about me instead of having to face terrified students everywhere I turn.
That same sense of being feared clings to me after the lesson as I cut through the halls on my way back to my room. I’m right back where I started. I never knew before that fear and hatred could be two sides of the same coin. Now, instead of feeling like I have to apologize simply for breathing the same air as the people who now make it a point to avoid me, I have to bite my tongue against the impulse to beg them not to be afraid.