Page 19 of Deafened By Silence
I drift deeper into the quiet solace of the aisles. With closing time creeping closer, no one else has wandered this far in, leaving me to roam freely and trail my fingertips across the spines like I’m greeting old friends.
A familiar warmth swells in my chest. That comforting hum of potential. Each book has a personality tucked between its pages, a voice waiting to be heard. All they ask for is a chance to pull me into their world, to make me care about people who don’t exist and problems that aren’t mine. A break in the shelves stops me in my tracks. I hesitate, considering my options. Am I in the mood for fantasy or contemp? Slow burn or fast?
I round the corner slowly, scanning the covers with quiet hope, waiting for the one that sings to me from the shelf. The naked bulb overhead gives a tired flicker, a pulse of dim light that casts the shelves in ominous shadow. It’s due to this that, when I’m certain there’s a flash of movement through the bookshelf gaps, I ignore it. A trick of my mind, that’s all. I continue on, dragging my fingers over the paperback spins, occasionally pulling one free of its home to read the blurb. Atthis rate, I’ll be ready to pass out in bed before I’ve even opened the front cover .
Another quick blur shoots by on the other side of the shelves, this time knocking a few books outward. They topple to the floor by my feet, silently crashing against my private bubble. I spin, casting glances in all areas, suddenly wary of how deep I’ve strayed. How alone I actually am.
The hairs at the base of my neck rise with instinctive unease. I press my hand flat to the nearest book, now uncaring of the genre, and fight the urge to grab it and get out. My feet begin to move, focused on escaping the maze of shelves. Back to civilization. I’m not too proud to ask Clayton to walk me home, although I won’t tell him it’s because I’ve spooked myself with shadows. Perhaps I’m still on edge thanks to Rhys’ stupid hog prank and hollow threats.
But when I reach the central seating area, my heart judders. It’s empty, and it’s dark. There’s not a soul in sight. How long was I wandering around? I scan the tables, hunting for something. A clue, a weapon maybe. My eyes settle on the table where I previously sat, one of my textbooks left forgotten on the edge. Despite the unease rippling along my spine, I curse myself for being forgetful and rush to retrieve it. Lifting the heavy weight, swiveling my backpack to shove it inside, I pause long enough to squint at a yellow post-it note stuck to the cover. One that was not there before.
Do you enjoy being watched, Harper?
Dread and confusion renders me frozen in place. My first thought is, Clayton? But surely not. Why would he gift me coffeeand message with me, just to freak me out like this afterwards? My mind does a full circle back to Rhys. He’s fucking with me, as standard. The stupid games of a spoilt, bored man, but even I know not to become comfortable. Rhys is many things, and dangerous is at the top of that list.
A hand lands on my shoulder, making me scream a sound that I can’t hear. My eyes adjust as I jerk back, the aged librarian from the front desk clutching her own chest in her fright. Glasses have slipped down the bridge of her nose, hanging on desperately as her chest heaves. I mutter a shaky apology and stuff the textbook, note included, into my backpack.
“The library has closed,” I watch her pale lips move, her thin fingers combing the end of silvery locks that rest on her shoulders. I nod eagerly, just relieved to see another person. She escorts me to the exit, but that doesn’t ease the feeling that I am indeed being watched. I look around, expecting to see a figure lingering in every darkened crevice. Once we’ve reached the double doors, the librarian unlocks one of them and pushes it open marginally so I can slip out into the night. I thank her and pretend I’m not stalling as she shuts the door in my face.
It's all on you now Harper, the wind slicing against my cheek seems to say. I rush down the steps, the desire to read myself to sleep tonight forgotten. Simply diving into the covers with the door locked will be enough. I curse myself for not bringing my receivers just in case, relying on my eyesight alone to keep me safe. Silhouettes on the edge of my vision remind me of the kidnapping fiasco on a very similar night, the darkness only broken by streetlamps on each courtyard corner. I check which rooms in the dean’s offices still have lights on, mentally planning the route if I should need to find the closest human being.
Am I being watched, like the note states? And if so, why? I slip under the radar on purpose, gliding through life without the validation most crave. That’s how I like it. Underestimated,underappreciated. I would be quite happy in a small lab, making small changes so some big-shot scientist can swoop in and make the breakthrough that could change so many lives. No credit needed.
But first, I have to survive this cursed college and the lunatics it seems to attract. First, I need to keep alert, looking over my shoulder, puffing out large clouds of air as I frantically cross the courtyard. When a black cat slinks across my path like a living omen, it’s enough to push me over the edge. I break into a full sprint, not stopping until McAllister Hall is in sight.
I throw myself into my dorm room, panting and struggling to slow my heartrate. It only accelerates when I find Addy sitting cross legged on her bed, hugging a teddy bear to her pajama-covered chest and sobbing. The tear streaks on her cheeks aren’t fresh, her glassy brown eyes staring at the far wall. I close the door and switch my phone’s mic on, dropping it between us as I sit on the edge of her bed.
“Addy, what’s wrong?” I rush to her side, searching her body for sign of injury. Or perhaps, did she get a note too? “I thought…I thought you were out with Aaron tonight?” I swallow past the lump in my throat. Aaron is in Addy’s dance class and she had been so excited when he’d asked her out for a drink tonight. It’s another reason why I forced myself to go to the library, as the call of an empty dorm room would have been all too tempting to procrastinate in.
“I was out with Aaron,” Addy breathes on a sob. A fresh tear falls from her eye which I instantly wipe away and pull her into a shaky hug. My pulse is still thrashing in my neck and my hands are trembling, but if Addy notices, she doesn’t comment.
“Did he hurt you? Try to force you-”
“No, no! Nothing like that. It’s just, well, it turns out he just wanted…” Addy hiccups, “wanted…”
I wait on bated breath for her to finish. Did that bastard just want her for sex, bondage, anal?! Tell me woman, what is it?!
“Todd’s number.” She finally forces out. I sit with a frown tugging at my brows. “My friend Todd in drama. Aaron wants Todd. He thought I could put in a good word for him.”
A full beat passes where her words circle around my skull. They settle, sink in, and as much as I know Addy was into Aaron, a strange sensation creeps up my spine. My lips clamp shut in warning, but the pressure builds too fast.Don’t do it, Harper. Don’t you dare.
But the snicker escapes anyway, a bubbling stream at first, cracking the tension wide open. Laughter quickly follows, bursting free, full-bodied and contagious. Addy shrieks, lurching forward to slap my arm, but she’s finally smiling. Her whole face lights up as the absurdity hits her, and then she’s collapsing beside me on the bed in a heap of hysterics. Tears slip down her cheeks, from mirth this time. We just lie there, laughing and expelling all of the stress from the past few hours. It feels incredible to free my psyche, to just let it all go at last.
When I’m gasping for air, my cheeks aching from the grin stretched across my face, I exhale unevenly. “So this evening, you’ve managed to turn a man gay while I’ve been complimented by Clayton and then had the shit scared out of me by some creep. Why do I feel like every day at Waversea is going to be like this?”
Addy suddenly bolts upright, pink hair falling in her eyes as she stares at me. The laughter dies in an instant, replaced by sharp-eyed concern. Despite the puffiness of her eyes, she manages to level me with a serious, no bullshit look.
“Tell me everything.”
Chapter Thirteen
Lying in bed, I toss a baseball up and down as the sun finally decides to rise. A faded signature spans across the white surface, the red stitching still holding strong after all these years.
Most of my childhood blurs together, fuzzy and fractured, except for the glimmers I hold tight. This one, this day, I remember. Jeremy won game tickets on the radio, desperate to give me a decent present for my tenth birthday. Only four years separated us but he was so much older than his years, having to be the man of the house while mom worked all hours, just like she had to that day too.
Between him and Big Tony from down the road, they’d managed to keep everything a complete surprise, right up until my eyes landed on the stadium. I remember leaning into his solid, muscled frame, too shocked to hold myself upright.
Big Tony had been the most constant male figure we ever had. In his forties, lived alone in a narrow-terraced house with a row of motorbikes out front and tattoos as loud as his laugh. Well,aloneif you didn’t count the sixty-three tarantulas stacked in glass vivarium’s in the spare room, an African Grey parrot that only knew curse words, and two chickens he bought in a fitof rage over the rising cost of eggs. Sam and Ella were escape artists, we had to chase them down the street more than once. But we were never short on omelets after that.
