VIII

The escape from the toilets is not as dramatic as I expect.

He goes first.

I wait a while.

My eyes watch my reflection warily.

We shouldn't have done this.

I splash my face with water, willing my flushed skin to fall back to pale alabaster.

My underwear is damp between my legs and my thighs ache.

My reflection has a glint in her eye.

It's satisfaction.

I don't know how he'll explain his absence if anyone asks.

I don't care.

I leave the bathroom, the swinging of the door shut behind me a muted thud of finality.

I hope.

Jasper is sitting behind the bleachers.

Our designated smoking spot, just for us.

I don't ask him why he's skipping class and he doesn't ask me, just appraises me briefly and chuckles.

The rest of the day blurs into a boring cacophony of sights and sounds I've already experienced.

When it's finished, I see Edward in the parking lot, leaning on the hood of his car, with her on his lap.

They're surrounded by people, as always.

Our eyes meet briefly.

A shiver goes down my spine.

School was the safe haven.

Was.

Because now we've had each other here, how do we stop?