11: Brutal Out Here

228 11 18
                                    

NPOV

Track: brutal, Olivia Rodrigo

School is hell, and every day that I'm forced to attend pushes me one step closer to a real villain origin story where I go rob banks and cause mass chaos instead of just committing minor trespassing violations. I've been avoiding Luke and Ethan all day—after they tried to kill me, I'm expecting that they're going to be assholes at school. I would rather not give them the opportunity to pick up where they left off. Besides, Will won't be here to save the day this time—within the walls of this hellhole, I am on my own.

I'm at my locker after third hour that I see them snickering as they turn the corner of the hallway, shoving each other and laughing. To anyone else, I'm sure they seem like nice people.

I grab my English textbook and shut my locker quickly, ready to sprint out of here if I have to. I shove through throngs of students, scanning the halls for a place that I can hide for a moment until Luke and Ethan pass. My English class is on the other side of the school, and I'll have to pass Luke and Ethan to get there—which means hiding and letting them go past is my only option here.

I used to hide in the art room behind the giant canvases in the back of the classroom, but they discovered that hiding spot last year, so they'll be expecting it now. I wonder if there's a teacher on their free period anywhere who would let me camp out in their room for a few minutes—

I slam into someone, and we both drop everything we're carrying.

"Oh, sorry about that!" says a cheery voice that sends chills down my spine.

I know that voice.

I look up. The boy I bumped into has bright blue eyes and sunny, golden curls. He's freckled, and his bright smile tells me that this is exactly who I fear it is. On his neck, there is a tiny scrape—no one would think anything of it unless they knew.

I know. I held a knife made of shadow there yesterday.

If I say a word, he might recognize my voice. Instead, I give a slight nod and opt to try to pick up all my things as quickly as I can. I'm grabbing my pencil, pen, and homework—and I reach to grab my English textbook when I find that it's no longer sitting on the ground.

Will is holding it out to me, a kind gesture that is making my nerves scream. "What's your name? I feel like I recognize you from somewhere. Have we had class together before?"

I grab my English textbook from him and get to my feet immediately. Then I continue down the hall without acknowledging his questions. I know that I'm being rude, but I'd rather be rude to him than allow him to hear my voice and realize who I am. Rude is better than imprisoned.

Because that was, without a doubt, Sunburst. No one else has a smile like that—the kind that warms you and makes you think that everything is going to be okay, even when everything is horrible. His eyes, too—I know those eyes.

Luke and Ethan have probably caught up significantly in the time that I was picking up my things from the ground. They're tall; they have long strides. I have to find somewhere to hide immediately or I'm going to have to face them.

I check classrooms as I walk—I pass Mr. Brunner's room, and he seems to have a free period because there are no students. I exhale nervously and take a sharp turn into his room.

"Can I stay in here for a minute?" I ask as soon as my foot passes the threshold into the room. "I won't bother you, I promise."

Mr. Brunner glances up from grading papers and makes a gesture at the many open desks in his room. "Of course. I don't mind. Take a seat and stay as long as you need, but unless you have a study hall next hour, I am going to require that you attend your next class. I don't want another teacher holding grudges against me for allowing students to skip their class."

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