My life was over.
No, is over. Will be over - no, on hiatus - for the next eight months.
I looked up to the front of the classroom. His name was Mr. Garner and he stood at a podium, with a meter stick in hand for a pointer. It looked like a weapon ready to knock naughty children on their asses.
And it looked like he hated me already. I gave him a nod to let him know that yes, the outsider sitting in the back of his classroom was indeed I, Cassandra Dean. As if he didn't know. My classmates had probably all attended boarding school together since the tender age of seven. And Mr. Garner probably knew trash when he saw it.
I don't remember the true moment I became a rich kid, but sitting in a classroom full of blonde heads and expensive tank watches and knowing you've got as much money to throw away as they do - well, it's a rude awakening. My dad died when I was three in an apartment building in flames. He was a fireman; his job wasn't only to save lives, but to risk losing his own life and leaving his family with nothing but compensation because, well - if an explosion happens, it happens. You read the fine print. You know the deal.
I can hardly remember my dad but I know he must have been a good guy, to my mom at least. I can vaguely remember her tears and her pain. I remember the broken sobs from down the hall, a gentle glow from just under her doorway letting me know she hadn't slept at all. I remember her putting his things in boxes in the attic above the stairs and slowly - gradually - replacing pictures of her and him with ones of a different sort. Hank. Her new husband, and my personal demon.
See, I never formally met Hank during their dating period - if there was one - so I can't deny how confused I was when the transition from Mom-and-Dad framed pictures became Mom-and-Hank framed pictures. Suddenly he was there, trying to kiss ass to a rampant, wild seven year old who didn't quite care about where her nose went or how he managed to get that penny from behind her ear.
"Miss Dean just transferred all the way from California, class." Maybe it was just my paranoia but Mr. Garner looked calculating. Heads turned to look at the freakshow from the West Coast - me, of course - and I felt myself retract even further in my seat. It didn't help that I was already two months behind the rest of them.
"What's it like in California, Miss Dean?" Mr. Garner crossed his arms. I looked out the window. It was raining - morose. What a perfect description for a creepy town like Ipswich, Massachusetts. Rain, rain and more rain. With a side order of thick fog, in case it wasn't gloomy enough.
"Dry," I replied, glancing back at Mr. Garner. The tone of my voice was even drier. It fit the girl behind the scowl, behind the Don't-Know-Don't-Care attitude.
Wild Child. Troubled Soul. San Jose's finest runaway - on a first name basis with the law, of course. Rap sheet as long as Mr. Garner's arm. Cliche after cliche after cliche.
My life was a cliche. A Lifetime movie that even I would have scoffed at.
I expected Mr. Garner to challenge me again, but he didn't. His gaze dropped and I felt the corner of my lips tug upward in smugness. Why, Mr. Garner - you should have told me you were going to label me Trouble! I'd be more than happy to play the part.
I heard a snort to the left side of the class and found a blonde boy glancing over his shoulder at me. Blue eyes, blonde hair. Smirking at me, as if I amused him. My eyes tightened involuntarily and I doubt it was a friendly look, but I didn't really care enough to do anything about it. I didn't want friends here. I wasn't going to be around long enough to appreciate it.
The bell rung, joyously obnoxious. Freedom to my ears - the end of a torturous day. I quickly gathered my books and made a beeline for the only room in this God-forsaken building that offered privacy - my own. An antique-ish mess of a dungeon that would have been all the rage a few centuries ago.
It made me miss the little things I'd taken for granted, like my car which was rotting away in our garage in California. Pins & Needles, my tattoo place and second home. Even Chuck, my skilled tattoo artist and best friend.
Ah, tattoos - my downfall. You couldn't tell from first glance, but I have seven of them. Count them - seven.
As I headed for my disgustingly formal suite, my eye caught curly red hair. My roommate Brianna. The girl was obsessed with pink; half the dorm room resembled regurgitated Pepto Bismol. She was sporting - what else - a pink velour jacket over her oxford shirt.
"Cassie!"
She ran over to me, keys in hand. She was cute but slight; short where I was tall. Scrawny where I was athletic. Where her eyes were as blue as the sky, mine were dark brown - almost black. Her cherry colored head could be spotted from a mile away. I was just another dark-auburn in a sea of browns and blondes.
"It's Cassandra," I corrected her, trying to keep my tone from sounding clipped. I bit my lip out of habit.
"Sorry," she looked at me with apologetic eyes. "I was just wondering how your first day went?"
Swell. "It'll be a lot better once I'm out of this horrendous skirt."
We walked back to our dorm in silence, her occasional wave to acquaintances in the hall and my marine-like gaze never wavering from the path in front of me. I refused to meet eyes with the male population of this dreaded boarding school. I knew what boys saw when they looked at me. It made me want to shave my head and sport clown makeup. It made me want to give them each a swift kick to the shin.
We headed inside our room - my side almost barren of any personality, her side with more than enough to spare - and I instantly shed my skirt and button-down, leaving me in my undergarments. I wasn't shy in the least but Brianna stepped behind her drawn curtain to change. I glanced at myself in the full-form mirror. My legs were long and lean from running - what a metaphor. They weren't stick thin like Brianna's and they definitely weren't dainty. They were strong. Able to withstand anything. Able to outrun anything except the memories. My torso and arms weren't any different. Everything was lean. Everything was toned. And to think my natural physique was more like Brianna's - waifish. I'd worked hard to get this body. I didn't want to be small anymore. I wanted to be able to put up a good fight.
Some people preferred their targets soft and dainty and lithe. It was easier to violate them; I should know.
"Do you play sports? Swim team or something?" I heard Brianna ask as she stepped from behind her curtain, in pink drawstring pants and a matching tank. Suddenly feeling a little too exposed I reached for something to throw on. Ah, my trusty jersey shorts and holey, seen-better-days white tee.
"Nope," I replied as I threw myself on my bed. "I ran a bit back home, but not for teams or anything. Just for fun."
"I sincerely hope that's not your true idea of fun," Brianna laughed. "But you look good, anyways."
I let my tense body relax. Brianna wasn't so bad. She was even likeable. Innocent, genuine - a rarity among high school girls. And she was willing to put up with a Debbie Downer like me. Most girls amped their attitude in my presence, instead.
"They'll calm down after a while, you know," Brianna started and I looked at her. My face must have shown my confusion. "The girls, I mean. They're all kind of catty around here on a good day, but they only look at you like that because you're new. And you're pretty."
"Ah," I said. "I see. They have a thing for fresh meat. I don't care anyway, but thanks."
She blushed lightly and looked down at her calculus textbook. I wonder if she thought I was a bitch. Oddly enough, I hoped she didn't.
"You're cool, though," I added quickly, seeing her head pick up and the beginning of a smile light her face. "For showing me the ropes around here." She nodded. I wasn't going to try hard to maintain friendships at this damnable school but I already decided I'd keep a friendship with Brianna. She was decent.
I spent the rest of the day napping. I woke up a couple of hours later grumpily to the sound of my cellphone squealing. The ID let me know who it was.
"Hi mom," my voice sounded chalky.
"Cassandra?" she sounded concerned. "Are you alright, hunny? How was school? And your roommate?"
"Slow down," I wiped at my eyes. "I'm fine. School was fine."
"And your roommate? What's she like? Do you get along?" Her questions shot out faster than bullets.
"We get along just fine." I added.
"Good, honey. I'm proud of you for doing this. I miss you, everyone misses you-"
"Mom," I cut her off sharply, involuntarily. "I'm sorry but there's homework I have to do. I really can't talk..."
"Oh," her voice wavered. I felt the guilt eating away at my heart. "Then I'll let you go, sweetie."
"I'll call you the next chance I get," I piped, hating myself for hurting her as usual. "Love you mom."
"I love you too. Be good and I'll see you soon." It sounded more like logic; If you be good, then I'll see you soon. Which wasn't all that untrue.
"Bye," I sighed and closed the phone, and all the demons that threatened to end my existence wilted.
I jumped off my bed and headed out into the hall for the bathroom, barefoot. The entire building seemed abandoned. It was creepy; what time was it anyway? Why was it so dark? I let the dimness of the hall guide me to the heavy door and was temporarily blinded by the fluorescent lighting of the stalls. I walked over to the sink and peered at the sleepy-eyed girl in the mirror.
I gave myself the stink-eye; it was the face I couldn't change. I'd started working out hard the year I threatened Hank to never lay his disgusting hands on me again, if he treasured having all his body parts. I'd hoped my boxing lessons would instill a little fear, a little weariness - and it did, surprisingly. He stopped. And even though I couldn't take back all the years of sexual abuse, in my head I was happy just knowing that the tables turned a little - fear was instilled in him.
But in truth, it was the face that got me in trouble. A strong body - 5'7" and 130 lbs, thank you very much - should not have a face this innocent. This pretty. It isn't hard, but soft. It isn't severe, but inviting. Innocent, even. The dimples I've had since birth refuse to go away, and if I show the littlest bit of smile, they're all yours to enjoy. My eyes are too big, my cheeks round out when I smirk and these lips - these damn lips - pink and puffy, are fit for a princess. Only I'm not a princess. I'm not worthy of this little cupid's bow and pouty bottom lip.
But more than that, I never wanted it. I'd rather look like an ordinary girl with ordinary features than ever have to re-live Hank coming to my bedroom and raping me at the tender age of nine. Nothing is free after all. Everything comes with a price.
I quickly shook the memories from playing out in my head with a splash of cold water. I used some paper towel to dry myself off and stepped back out to the dark hallway. Something sharp was on the floor, but it was too late to get myself out of its way. It was already in my foot. I yelped loudly, a very unlikely thing for me to do.
"Fucking shit!" I wailed. "Fuck!" Lip-biting be damned, I reached for whatever was still piercing my heel and saw the culprit - a nail. Great, tetanus. Incase my life didn't suck enough. I pulled it out and whimpered a bit before realizing I was going to lose my balance at the sight of blood - my blood. It was horrifying.
Only I didn't make it all the way down; my body hit another body - a male body - sturdy, still standing. Yes, that felt like denim. And hands. His hands grabbed me, which lightened the impact of my head crashing down on his crotch, mortifyingly enough. I caught a distinct cologne smell.
"Oof," I muffled through the cotton of his sweater. He pulled me off him as I tried to regain my balance. My eyes met with blue ones, and blonde hair. I'd seen him before, but not really. I hadn't seen him - not this close up. And I was sort of rendered speechless, if that were possible for a girl like me. Which it wasn't. I don't lose it over a guy, despite the pretty-ness of this guy's cornflower hair and ocean-blue eyes.
Cornflower hair? Am I a poet now?
I shook the feeling off and hoped this guy's gaze would let down but he just smirked in a cocky kind of way, which struck me as both odd and annoying. I looked down at his hands - in fingerless gloves - still handling my forearms. I regained enough composure to pull away from his grasp - with moderate force.
"Quite a mouth you have on you." He was actually gazing at my mouth, as if it were something to eat.
I glared at him the best I could and felt the anger waiver with a quick wash of pain. Ow. I limped over to the side of the wall and slid down to examine the wound. It wasn't an attractive position to be in and I couldn't have cared less.
"You're bleeding," he observed, sounding nonchalant. Much like stating the time, I thought.
"I'm aware of that," I clipped. "Go away." He looked mildly surprised, with the possibility of a smirk playing at his lips. He might have contemplated for two seconds while I silently grieved in pain, biting my lower lip to keep the low moan from escaping. Decidedly, he shrugged his shoulders.
"You're lucky I'm not a nice guy," he reasoned. I rested the back of my head against the wall and looked up at him through narrow eyes. He smirked at me before stalking off to whichever girl's room he was going to ravage.
Well that's obvious, I thought. I went to stand up and felt instantly dizzy.
"Cassandra?" It was Brianna. Oh heavenly angels, I thank thee.
"I'm over here," I waved with a bit of resignation and embarrassment. She wasn't alone. I could make out the outlines of three other people with her.
"You're bleeding!" She looked at my foot with anguish and what I thought was disgust. "What the hell did you do to yourself?"
I held up the culprit which was still in my hands - the dreaded nail. I sighed and tried not to look at her snickering friends; only, when I did - they weren't snickering, as I'd imagine anyone would be, and one of the boys looked on with pity.
"Help her, Ry," Brianna's friend urged, and I saw that Ry was the tall one with messy brown hair that stuck up in some places. And - like anyone at Spenser Academy - he was attractive. Unconventionally so.
"I'll help you back," he said, only it sounded like a question and he didn't grab me like the blonde - he offered. And since they were heading back to the room anyway, I accepted.
"Thanks," I told him. I peeked over at Brianna and saw that she was gazing up at Ry with something like longing.
When we got back to the room, Ry lead me to my bed and I plopped down with a sigh. The damned heel still hurt but it stopped bleeding all over the place. Brianna fished for peroxide, some gauze and a big band-aid from her first-aid kit. I eyed the peroxide warily but succumbed to her threats ("do you want your foot to fall off?!"). She introduced me to her friends, Lily and Cole - who appeared to be very much the happy couple. Ry, I learned, was actually short for Ryan. He was Cole's best friend and apparent escort for Brianna, who was friends with Lily. They were all so... close. Wholesome. Sincere, like Brianna.
And sitting there with my bandaged heel only me made me feel like the awkward fifth wheel. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was 9:45, late for a hang-out by boarding school standards.
"Do they care if we come and go?" I asked Brianna. "I mean, if I wanted to go somewhere right now - could I just get up and go?" Lily eyed my foot warily and raised her brow at me. I laughed at her implication.
"Yes and no," Ry answered, after Brianna looked at him for help. "Technically, no. But if you're smart about it - then yes." My brows flew up in surprise and nodded encouragingly. He looked at me with pensive eyes.
"It's tricky, that's all," he finished. I crossed my arms, seeing that he wasn't going to explain much more than that. Neither Brianna nor Lily and Cole were going to tell me how I could possibly escape this cultish hellhole.
"That's all?" I huffed. "Aren't you going to tell me how?"
"I just don't want to get you in any trouble," Ry looked at me strangely. Did he suspect that I was going to bail?
"I wouldn't bring you guys down with me, if that were the case," I let him know, thinking that maybe he was covering his own ass. Then I froze. They came from outside. It couldn't have been that hard for the four of them to get by without being noticed. Was it me? Did they know about my record? My past? And how much of it did they know? Brianna must have seen the frantic look in my eyes, because her gaze did not waver.
"One of the computer geeks pulled up a record," her voice wavered. "Your record."
I was suddenly aware of a sickness rising to my throat.
"Who." Funny how I hadn't realized I stood up until I felt Ry's restraining hand on my shoulder. I gave him a look with a mental message attached - back off. He didn't.
"We're not even sure," Lily looked at me with some weird emotion. Was it pity? "They do it to everyone. They probably weren't expecting to find what they found."
"And that gave them the right to intrude," I finished for her, feeling my voice tremble with resentment. My face felt like a ball of flames. Of all things I felt, embarrassment was the most shocking. I looked at the ground and shook Ry's hand off my shoulder. Now wasn't the time to play nice.
I was only halfway down the hall when I heard unwelome footsteps. Running didn't sound like a bad idea just then. And they'd never catch up...
"Cassandra," Ry called out cautiously. "Wait up." I rubbed my temples as I walked faster and then crossed my arms with an angry exhale. I was biting my lip so hard I was sure it would bleed. Anything to keep my mind off the embarrassment. Anything to keep me from crying.
"Are you going to tell me how to get the hell out of here?" I spoke without turning to face him.
"No."
"Then leave me alone." Please.
"I won't tell you," he spoke calmly. "I'll show you."
I stopped walking and turned to meet his eyes. They were dark - if not darker - than mine.
"Under one condition," his eyebrow quirked upward. "I'm coming with you."
"You don't even know where I'm going." I don't even know where I'm going, I felt like telling him.
"I know you're not running away," he reasoned. "As long as I'm there, you won't."
"I could incapacitate you, you know. I know how." He looked at me then, trying to read thoughts.
"Would you?" It was a simple question and yet very effective. Would I hurt Ry, a boy I'd just met? Someone who seemed sincere enough to help a bitchy stranger? My tough act wavered and I rolled my eyes. I wouldn't. And to be frank, I wasn't sure I could. He was so tall - probably around 6'4".
"You show me the way and we'll go together," my voice lowered then. "But what about the others?"
"They told me to follow you, so I guess they're not coming. Unless you want them to." I thought about all of us leaving together - thoughts of a fifth wheel coming to mind. I wasn't exactly up for that. Brianna would have to understand.
"I'd rather be alone, but I'll settle for just you," I said with resignation. "As long as you get me out of here."
He nodded and I followed him, all the way to the auditorium. The auditorium? Strange.
"It's the only exit that doesn't buzz," he whispered, leaning in. I nodded, though he couldn't see it. Darkness was obviously the norm here at Spenser, I realized. I'd seen bat caves with better lighting.
I followed him all the way to the bottom of the large room, casually leaning against his shoulder for stability lest I trip and fall on my face. And then felt him stiffen. He stopped walking and put his arm out to stop me.
"What?" I whispered anxiously, but then I felt his hand over my mouth - to hush me.
The auditorium exit opened then, from the inside, and moonlight spilled over us. I could see then that it wasn't authority - just kids, like us. Two boys. One of them with hair shining like an angel. Like cornflower.
"Ugh," I couldn't hold back my disgust when Ry's hand left my mouth. My body relaxed and I felt my face blanche instead. Blondie again. And a side kick this time, too. Pretty little brown-haired boy.
"Following me?" Blondie's brows went up humorously. I felt my hands clench.
"Hardly," I let out as I pulled Ry to the exit by his forearm. "Step aside, please." Before I hurt you in what I'll later call a 'fit of rage'.
His arm blocked my passage and I felt Ry tense yet again. My eyes shifted upward and I saw just how tense Ry and Blondie both were. Lots of eye-daggers and 'I hate you' looks. Blondie's face left nothing to the imagination - it was excitement. As if he were looking for trouble all night and finally found it.
"Reid." The voice came from outside and I noticed two other boys standing off at the side. Both disgustingly pretty, one commanding more authority than any of them. The voice belonged to him.
"Get off it, Caleb," Blondie - or Reid, rather - looked at his friend with challenging eyes. "I'm just amusing myself here."
"You're Using."
I threw a suspicious glance at his friend outside. This boy - Reid - was using? Using what? Drugs? My face twisted into something of a grimace and I went to meet eyes with Ry at the awkwardness of it all. But he wasn't by my side.
In fact, he wasn't in the auditorium at all.
He was gone. He left me. With these donkeys - who were clearly bored and looking for fun in the form of elementary school behavior.
"Ry!" I called in a hoarse whisper, hoping this was all just a bad joke. And that is just wishful thinking, I thought to myself bitterly. Reid laughed obnoxiously and his friend next to him rolled his eyes. Caleb - the handsome one outside - stepped towards us in annoyance. He was hesitant though, and I realized I'd need to step in if I ever planned on hitting the dusty trail.
And here I am, thinking my new lifestyle would pale in comparison to the old. It was only my first day of classes and I was going to send my fist through someone's eye socket.
"Move." My anger wasn't forced. The corner of his mouth quirked up for just a second.
"Reid," Caleb's voice picked up from the doorway. I shot him a nasty look - did the puss want to help me now? I was fuming. Reid turned his head toward Caleb, though not to directly look at him.
"She can handle herself. She loves a fight as much as I do," he mused as he turned back to face me. Still blocking the exit. Only this time, his glance wavered from my eyes to my lips - just like the last time - only this time, he licked his own. "Or is that just the rumor?"
I felt my face flush red as his laughter picked up a little and I wondered what his personal vendetta against me was. I might have been rude to him earlier, but I'd hardly call that a reason to act on. It was just odd.
"The rumors," I spoke slowly, letting a calculated smile slowly form on my face, "are true." I got inches away from him as I said it, so close that I could feel his body heat as I'm sure he could feel my own. It was then that I realized I wouldn't mind peering into those blue eyes any more than I would mind sending my fist through one.
His face suddenly hardened - I couldn't read through his expression, oddly enough. Bewildered? Caught off guard? I heard his friend laughing next to him. The pretty one whose name I never caught. I was surprised to find him smiling at me.
"I don't know who you are, but I'm Tyler," he said, still smiling. "And any girl who gets in Reid's face is OK with me."
"Who's in my face, Baby Boy?" Reid's eyes zoned in on Tyler. "I was just about to let the lady pass." Lady. I wanted to backhand that saccharine smile right off his face.
With a dramatic bow of servitude, he waved me forward.
His eyes never left mine, I noticed. And I only noticed this because I kept his gaze until I passed him. Call it instinctual but I certainly didn't feel safe just then with my back facing him. He chuckled behind me.
"You can run but you can't hide," he said sing-songly. I looked at Caleb's apologetic eyes before throwing Reid a glance from over my shoulder.
"I'm not running anywhere," I spoke throatily, to my surprise, and continued to walk. I had no clue where I was going - that was obvious - but I also didn't care.
I walked quickly and efficiently, covering ground while Caleb got in Reid's face. Their arrangement seemed off - even to me, the most 'off' girl in the world. I couldn't pinpoint where the oddness originated from, though. Perhaps it was the way Caleb appeared more as Reid's guardian than fellow classmate and friend. Or maybe it was Reid's rogue behavior, set off in a way that made me think it was a cry for attention. The intensity of his eyes frightened me, no doubt - but Caleb's authoritative tone made me believe that Reid was more than likely rebuffing that.
Or maybe they're all gay. I smirked at the thought.
Somewhere to hide, somewhere to hide - I chanted this in my head as I searched the grounds. Somewhere I could put my head between my knees and breathe away the threat of tears.
I found a spot that looked particularly deserted. It was in between the school grounds and what looked like a huge shed. There was a fence to lean against, which was nice. I plopped down and brought my knees to my chest - the air was cold and bitter tonight. I rested the back of my head against the fence and brought my hands together by my face, breathing into them to keep warm.
Think, girl. What the hell are you going to do now?
It's either sink or swim, I realized. You can run away and sink. Or you can deal for a year and stay afloat. There is no in-between. There is nothing else that matters. Let them gossip. Let them pass their monotonous, dull lives here at Spenser mocking you for lack of anything better to do. It will not matter in the end.
You are not the kind of girl that hides, Cassandra. That's for damn sure.
I stood up and took a deep breath. If ever the eye of the storm threatened my existence, it was now. But I wouldn't go down crying, and I would not go down without a fight.
I might have sat for fifteen minutes before I realized my ass was frozen to the ground. Wouldn't do me good to get frost-bite there, I mused. The air was colder now as I made my way back and the wind whipped my hair into my eyes. For a minute, I was temporarily blinded. I moved the strands from my face with numb fingers. It was then that I'd heard it - a snap. The snap of a twig. I turned around cautiously, eyeing the area.
"Hello?" I yelled out in a cracked voice. The origin of the sound came from the lining of the trees. Too much forest here, I realized. And then I advanced on it without even thinking.
It almost felt static, the energy. Like moving toward the forest was the last thing I should ever do. Like I should turn around and run. I peered once more through narrow eyes - was that a shadow I just saw?
Turn around, girl. Run back. Something isn't right.
I felt a chill down my spine and shivered. Keeping my eye on the forest, I swiveled around and almost ran into a large black figure. I screamed and made ready to bolt before recognizing that the large black figure was Caleb in a long peacoat. I clutched at my heart and heaved in relief.
"You scared the hell out of me!" I looked at him with disdain. His hands were out to slow me, and he looked tired - resigned.
"Sorry," he shrugged and I saw something like amusement glimmer in his big brown eyes. "You shouldn't be out here. It's not safe." I watched him as he watched the forest behind me with stress and worry lining his face. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. I nodded.
"Goodnight, then," my voice cracked once more and I looked down as I gave him a quick wave. I started walking back toward the school when I heard his footsteps behind me.
"I should probably walk you back," he said more to himself than me. I looked over my shoulder and snorted.
"You definitely don't have to do that."
I watched as he looked back at the woods and then at me.
"I definitely do," he muttered. I eyed him suspiciously as we walked.
"Was there someone out there? In the woods, I mean? I definitely heard something-"
"Whatever you heard," he began. "You had every reason to be scared. A kid was murdered out there in the woods two months ago." He gave me a look of warning, and I realized that he was trying to scare me. For my own good, it seemed. Caleb wasn't much like his friends, from my observation.
We reached the door to the auditorium and I was relieved to find no one else around. I turned to look up at Caleb and found him gazing into the pitch-blackness of the room. As if he were watching someone. Ipswich isn't just creepy, I thought. It breeds creepy.
And handsome, I chuckled internally.
I gave him a nod as he looked down at me and turned to go.
"Cassandra, is it?" I heard him inquire as I went through the doorway.
"Yeah," I turned my head back in reply.
"Be safe," he spoke quietly. "And pay Reid no mind. He's not thinking clearly these days."
Funny, I thought to myself. No one ever is.
"I'll keep that in mind," was what I said before I turned to leave. I didn't bother to look back.
When I got back to the room, it was empty. I closed the door firmly and locked it, reveling in the security it promised. I slid down to sit and shake away the shock of the moments that just passed. I could have locked myself in this room forever if it meant anything at all. But hiding is a distant cousin of running away, and I was not the type to do something halfway. Why bother at all?
I stood up - gallantly, I liked to think - and unbolted the door for Brianna before getting myself ready for bed.