Page 71 of The Bleak Beginning

“Is that supposed to be a threat?” I retort, straightening my posture despite the intense glint in his eye that seems to revel in confrontation.

“It's a promise,” he declares sternly. “Now get out of my sight. You and your family make me sick.”

His door slams shut with a deafening force. The sound reverberates through the empty hallway, echoing off the walls.

I stumble back, rubbing my wrists where his fingers left angry marks. The mention of my family sent a fresh wave of anger coursing through me.

How dare he touch me like this? My teeth grind together, fighting the urge to pound on his door again. For my notebook, my family, this stupid school. Everything.

But I know that won’t get me anywhere. Bishop is as stubborn as he is infuriating, and pushing him further would only make things worse. I needed to be smart. Cunning. Stealthy.

Taking a deep breath, I turn and walk away, my mind racing. There has to be a way to get my stuff back, some leverage Ican use against him. If Bishop thinks he can intimidate me into leaving, he’s sorely mistaken.

He may have backed me into a corner, but two could play at this game, and I’m determined to win.

Chapter 14

Alex

It’s the middle of the week before I decide I should probably stop dragging my feet and pick an extracurricular before Chancellor Maxwell hunts me down. She may have given me until the end of the week as a deadline, but I had zero doubt in her choosing for me if I didn’t pick for myself.

With a sigh, I trudge to the first thing on the list that seems somewhat appealing, my footsteps echoing in the near-empty hallway. Most students were either in class or had long since committed to their extracurriculars. I, on the other hand, was stuck in limbo, procrastinating until the very last minute.

I reread the long list, skimming it again. Debate Club, Actors Guild, Underwater Basket Weaving… Who even came up with these?

I navigate through the backstage area. The room is a vibrant explosion of color, with racks of elaborate costumes and shelves lined with wigs in every hue imaginable. Mirrors adorn the walls, some surrounded by makeup products, while others reflect the flickering lights from stage equipment.

Despite feeling out of place, I put on a brave face and pretend to be enthralled by it all. After all, playing a character shouldn’t be too difficult, considering how much I pretend to like it here.

As I wander deeper into the backstage labyrinth, a petite girl with black hair with bright orange streaks suddenly pops out from behind a costume rack, nearly giving me a heart attack.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” she says, her already large eyes widening with surprise. “Are you here for the Actors Guild?”

I hesitate, unsure how to respond. Part of me wants to bolt for the door, but another part is intrigued by the vibrant chaos surrounding me. “I’m…considering it,” I say.

“How do you manage to get away with…” I gesture to her hair. “You know, your hair color?” I ask, remembering the strict rules on natural hair colors.

“These are natural colors,” she says, matter-of-factly.

Of course, black and orangecould benatural hair colors. It was just the brightness of the orange that caught me off guard. Who was I to question it, though? I nodded, trying to play it cool.

“Right, of course. Sorry, I’m new here,” I mumble, wondering if it’s too late to escape.

Her lips quirk up, a spark of mischief lighting her expression. “I’m just messing with you. It’s a wig.”

She reaches up and lifts the wig slightly, revealing mousy brown hair underneath. “The drama department has some perks. We get to bend the rules a bit in the name of art.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, both from relief and genuine amusement. “That’s pretty clever.”

“I’m Aubrey, by the way,” she says, extending her hand for me to shake. “Come, I’ll take you to our stage manager and resident rule-breaker.”

Aubrey leads me deeper into the backstage area. The narrow corridors twist and turn, lined with more costume racks and prop tables. I duck under a low-hanging light fixture, nearly tripping over a coiled rope on the floor.

“Pardon the clutter, we’re currently rearranging things. Our team and the orchestra have been battling for space for years, but luckily, in about a month, some extra room will be available. We’re all thrilled about it.”

My muscles tense at the mere mention of musical instruments.

“Watch your step,” Aubrey calls over her shoulder before I nearly step on a mound of fur I couldn’t be entirely sure was alive or not.

---