How About Seven? ✔

30. Sariel

"Hayley."

My footsteps quickened. I pretended not to hear.

"Hayley! Hayley, wait!"

A group of boys walked out in front, laughing. I took the opportunity to weave behind them, dodging into the next hallway. With my back to the wall I flattened my bag to my chest and stopped breathing.

Leila came into view, neck craning, searching. For a moment my lips parted as if to call her out. She walked past.

I breathed again.

It was Monday. Over the weekend Leila had been spamming my phone with messages and missed calls, wanting to know what was going on. Switching off my phone to avoid her had been easy, but in school things were bound to be a little bit trickier.

The wound in my shoulder throbbed, and I remembered Kaylan's scream as Jasper sawed down on his thumb, and the emotionless look in Jasper's eyes as I begged him to leave Emrys alone.

A foot in both worlds.

Shouldering my bag with renewed determination I turned out of the hallway - and knocked straight into someone.

"Sorry -"

"Hayley?"

"W-william," I stuttered.

His eyes flickered to the bandage that my short-sleeved shirt couldn't quite hide. I tried to tug down the material but it was too late, I saw the concern flared up in his eyes and words were already pouring out of his mouth.

"Hayley, what happened? You guys never came back, and Leila was crying after that phone call. Roxy had to calm her down before we could get anything out of her . . . Were you hurt badly? Why did you ignore our calls?"

I looked at William. As usual his shirt was a bit loose on his skinny frame, his hair scruffy and soft in its trademark just-out-of-bed way. His eyes were wide behind his black glasses, wide and patient for my answer.

"Hayley?"

William Winston. The boy who was my friend. The boy who had a sister. The boy who might be Jasper's next target. William Winston.

William looked around. "You know, Emrys didn't come to class today."

Because he's dead, a little voice in my head whispered. And guess whose fault was that?

"I have to go," I managed to say. "I'm sorry."

I turned to leave but he gripped my hand. His fingers wrapped around my wrist in perfect fit, as if they belonged there. I looked down to push it away, and then stopped.

I stared.

Seeing the direction of my gaze, William blushed and quickly pulled away.

"I - I'm sorry, I didn't mean -"

"You have a leather watch," I whispered. "The leather watch."

In my mind an image flashed, short and sharp and quick. Of a boy who had left the store after defending me, a boy who had curly brown hair . . . and a leather watch.

"You were the boy. In the store." I looked up at him then, looked into those puzzled eyes. "You helped me, in my first day in town."

The bewilderment vanished as William brightened. His eyes lit up, his entire face seemed to glow with pride and pleasure. "You remember me!"

He let out an awkward laugh as his hand reached up to brush the back of his neck. "You know the funny thing is I've been trying to tell you that since day one, but we kept getting interrupted for some reason . . . "