Page 22 of Unrequited
My hands tremble.
Will the text go through?
I don’t know.I don’t know.
Seconds later, a reply bubble pops up. Relief surges through my veins.
Seamus
Fucking hell
stay there.
I’m on my way.
Whatever you do DO NOT LEAVE
STALL
How? How do I stall a man who’s trying to hurt me?
He comes back, and I force myself to smile. My voice wobbles, and my thoughts are scrambled. “What did you tell them?”
“I said we needed a minute alone,” he says.
I force a giggle. “All you need is a minute?”
My knees buckle.
I collapse like my legs have given out. I gag. And then I vomit, right there.
On the cement.
“Oh, gross,” he groans, backing up.
“It’s your fault,” I spit, wiping my mouth, retching again foreffect. “You put something in my drink. What’d you think was gonna happen? I’d fall in love with you?”
He snarls and then shoves me. I fall, cracking my head against the underside of the bleachers.
Blood trickles into my eye.
My god.
This isexactlywhat Rafail warned me about, exactly what I am supposed to avoid.
And yet—here I am.
Under the bleachers. With children.
And I’m done pretending. I’m only twenty, butIam not a child.
I was born into war, raised by criminals, and lived through the brutal assassination of my own parents. I don’t belong in this fake-normal world.
I fumble for the blade in my boot, but I don’t trust myself to use it. He’s too big. Too fast.
If I slice him and he catches me, the price will be too high.
I always bring a knife because I can’t carry a gun on campus. They’d find out, and I’d be done. But a knife is tricky and hard to handle in situations like this.
