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'Where have you been going at lunch?' Rose asks me, drumming her nails on the solid oak desk that we share in English.
I was wondering when they'd start noticing.
Today was the fourth time in the Janitors cupboard, in half as many weeks.
The clickety clack is obnoxiously loud and I can tell by the way her lips curve upwards that she's doing it on purpose to annoy me.
Rose is a master manipulator.
But I'm a good liar.
'To pick up.' I say after an appropriate amount of time.
Lesson one in lying. Don't answer too quickly.
'Without your car?' Her eyebrow lifts.
Hmm.
We are paying attention aren't we.
'James picks me up.' I say without skipping a beat, keeping my expression one of boredom.
Lesson two. Prepare your excuses but don't offer too much information.
'Why?' She questions, crystal eyes narrowed.
I smirk at her, 'Why do you think?'
Lesson three. Leave them to fill in the blanks themselves.
'Oh.' She says softly, tilting her head suggestively. 'Are you two…?'
I ignore her question, letting the corner of my mouth lift.
I'm not fucking my drug dealer, but it's better she believes that than the truth.
As the class continues, a thought drifts its way to the forefront of my mind, making my pen pause on the paper in front of me.
If my disappearance is being noted, his definitely is.
