Page 30 of Distortion
I glance at him and then away with a snort. ‘Can’t help it.’
‘Look at me.’
‘I don’t want to,’ I say almost petulantly.
He steps closer like he’s being pulled into my orbit by some unseen power and takes my chin like he did before.This time it’s gentle and much more like a caress from the beginning. I can’t help leaning forward and sniffing the air around him, taking in the scent as he tips my face up to his.
‘Look into my eyes.’
We look into each other’s eyes when we speak. That’s one of the rules here.
It’s like a bucket of cold water thrown over my head. I flinch away, and, thankfully, Mav lets me go. My hands are shaking and my legs feel like they can barely hold me up as I stagger away from him. I think he calls my name, but I don’t look back as I disappear into the building, my heart racing.
I head for the bathroom and find it blessedly empty, so I lean against the cement block wall and will myself to be calm. I’m not there. I never have to follow the rules again if I don’t want to.
I never have to follow the rules again if I don’t want to.
The mantra helps and I splash some cool water on my face.
Then, I go into my second class where I sit at a small desk and spend another hour wondering how I’m ever going to do well in a subject I have no natural affinity for while I try to forget the confrontation I had with Mav. When they start going into the meanings of the words and why the author might have used a specific phrase, I can't help but wonder why anyone would care or even why it matters. I get so caught up in my thoughts that it does make what happened today fade into the background.
When I’m released, I notice the campus library is close by. I decide to track down a copy ofThe Canterbury Talesas well as the Shakespeare play I need to read so that I don’t have to find a way to buy them. I glance at the campus bookstore on the way, but there’s a line out the door and the thought of standing therewaitingfor ages without moving makes me gostraight past. I have about three bucks to my name anyway. What will I be able to buy with that? A bookmark?
In the library, I follow the signs to the Classics on the second floor and find the rows I need. I find Chaucer’s complete works quickly and give myself a mental high-five that I might not have to waste my first paycheck from Grinder on textbooks. The Shakespeare, however, is elusive and I have to walk around the section several times before I find what I’m looking for.
I kneel on the thin, industrial gray carpet to peer more closely at the bottom shelf and pull out a copy ofTwelfth Night. As I do, I hear an odd slurping sound and a distinctive groan from the next row over. I freeze, squinting through the books out of curiosity and dread, not sure what I’m going to see.
There’s a girl on her knees.
‘Yeah, just like that,’ a male says, his silky voice rolling through the surrounding silence like a caress.
My eyes widen as I see thick fingers slide into her hair, and she gags as he forces her to take him deeper.
I’m transfixed. I know I should look away. I know what they’re doing because I saw Felix doing it to Harry more than once at The Heath late at night between the blanks’ patrols. I’d assumed it was something boys did with other boys, but ... I blink. I suppose it makes sense for a girl to do it to a boy, too.
She’s blonde, and her hair is long and wavy. There are tears running down her face, and I wonder if he’s hurting her, if I should do something. My heart thuds hard in my chest. Maybe I should call for someone.
I’m not sure why I look up, craning my neck, searching for the boy’s face. When I see the distinctive tattoos on the side of his neck, I realize that he’s familiar and I gasp very audibly before I can stop myself.
Blake?
His eyes snap to mine, and I can’t look away as he stares, looking momentarily shocked, then angry before it morphs again. The expression he settles on is one of smirking challenge, and it makes my skin prickle. Why does he look as if he wants to devourme?
I grab the book I came for and get to my feet, my cheeks burning as I flee, and I’m sure I hear a laugh ring out behind me.
Thankful that I’m in my trainers ...sneakers, I high-tail it down the stairs and take out my library books at the machine, keeping an eye out behind me in case he comes after me.
Luckily, he doesn’t, and I walk briskly out and back to the house.
When I get there, I can see that some of the members are home, but when I ring the bell, no one answers.
Sighing, I wonder how long they’ll keep this up. Maybe if I ignore their antics, messing with me will lose its entertainment value.
I go around the back of the house to enter through the window like I did yesterday, but it’s closed. I huff when I can’t find any others open and I give up for the moment, sinking down onto one of the loungers close to the back door.
If I’m stuck out here, I might as well get some work done, so I crack open one of the books and begin reading.
Ten minutes later, I’m still trying to read the first page, and I have no idea what’s going on in the story. The writing is in poetry form, and I remember why I chose pretty much anything but English courses when I did my high school equivalent subjects at The Heath. Much like song lyrics, I can’t make heads or tails of any of it.
