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?
