Page 60 of A Drop of Anguish
I itch my ear awkwardly. I stop in the hall and face him. “You—you don’t have to be here, at school, for me. I mean, if that’s why you returned.”
Jarron’s face pales, and my stomach sinks.
“I mean, I want you here. I do. But I feel like you’re telling me you’re unwell and should be home. And then, I think you came back here against your own well-being to protect me.” Which makes me feel terrible because I guilted him from the beginning.
I never really considered that he had his own personal demons to deal with.
“It’s not just that,” he says. “Besides, I want to be here. Need to be, if I’m honest.”
My brow furrows. “Is there anything I can do? To help?”
“No.” He shrugs. “Be my friend. That would help.”
I give him a small smile. “I’ve been trying to do that. You make it kinda hard.”
“I know,” he whispers.
“Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Do I need a reason to talk to you?”
I twist my lips. “Of course not. I just…”
His eyebrows rise.
“Nothing. Never mind. I just thought maybe you had something to say.”
Something crosses his expression then, but it fades too quickly to analyze. “There are many things I’d like to say.”
I wait. He rocks back on his heels, staring down the hall, lines of stress on his mouth.
“But you’re not going to say them now?” I guess.
He shakes his head. “So, where is your first class, now that Ms. Bhatt changed your entire schedule?”
I open my mouth to answer, but then I shut it. I don’t want to give that answer.
“Something wrong?” His face brightens with curiosity, the first non-intense emotion I’ve seen cross his features.
“Language,” I answer and then turn on my heel and begin down the hall, assuming he’ll follow.
“What language?” he answers as he rushes to keep up.
I withhold a sigh. “High Orizian.”
His next step falters, but then he matches my casual stride. “That’s interesting.”
“Is it?” I ask, voice too high. “I did have something to talk toyouabout.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve been getting notes lately. And a few nights ago, I received something else of… interest.”
His jaw clenches. “Interest?”
I nod, chewing the inside of my lip.
He grips my elbow and pulls me to a stop. “Explain,” he demands, “because I have no idea what you’re talking about, but it sounds like it’s serious to you.”
