Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 94457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Adjusting her glasses, she asks, “Quinton, as in the guy who I saw you with in the corridor the night we first met?”
I nod, and part of me wants to tell her he’s not really that bad of a guy, a lot unstable and a control freak at best, but I stop myself from doing that because it seems wrong. It seems like I’m enabling his behavior, and I don’t want to do that. No matter how fucked up someone is, it doesn’t mean they can treat people however they want.
“It’s a really long story, and I’m way too exhausted to get into it, but yeah, that’s how I ended up here.”
“I don’t like it. I don’t like that they aren’t giving you proper food.” Anger rises in her features, her cheeks become red, and her brows pinch together. I understand her anger all too well, but I didn’t tell her any of this because I want her sympathy or help.
“I don’t like it either, but there isn’t much I can do about it.” I shake my head, feeling like shit for what I’m about to say. “I don’t want you to feel bad for me either or to try to help. I’ve got enough attention on me for things that are out of my control.”
“Don’t you think your health is important enough to speak up over?” she asks me calmly.
“Yes, but I’m confiding in you as a friend, not a teacher, so please don’t make this into a bigger issue than it is. I’ll talk to the cafeteria. I’ll get it fixed.”
And I will, or at least, I’ll try.
“Now I’m going to worry about you even more.” The words out of her mouth make me still. It’s been so long since I’ve heard someone say they’re worried about me or that they even care about my existence.
“Don’t worry. I’m okay. As soon as I’m out of here, I’ll be back in the library bothering you.”
She nods, looking down at her hands resting in her lap before looking back up at me. The way she’s looking at me with such a somber, open expression is more than I can take, and I dart my eyes away to look at the blanket covering me.
“If you need anything, Aspen, don’t hesitate to ask. I’m here for you, as a friend and teacher. I’ll help however I can, whenever I can.”
I don’t want to admit how much her words soothe me, how much better they make me feel because I’m afraid I might wake up and find out this has all been a dream. I mean, the vomiting and fever could all be a dream.
“Thank you, and thanks for checking on me. By the way, how did you know I was here?” I’m almost hesitant to know the answer to that question, but if the whole school knows already, then I need to prepare for when I’m released back to the dorms.
“Rumors. I heard a couple of teachers talking this morning and had to check for myself. I called down here, and the nurse told me that you were admitted but sleeping. I put off coming down so that you could sleep. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Wow, how long have I been in and out of sleep? Obviously longer than I thought.
“Well, at least it’s only the teachers that know.”
Brittney frowns. “I don’t think it’ll be that way for long, but don’t focus on that. Focus on feeling better.”
I nod. That’s the only thing I can do right now.
I’ll deal with the fallout later. At least I’m not going to die of dehydration or anything else insane, not yet.
19
QUINTON
Even though I don’t visit her again, I keep tabs on Aspen through the doctor who helped bring her back to life. I’ve called down to medical every day, and she’s given me a brief overview of how she’s doing. It makes me feel less like an asshole for not visiting her, but I don’t have anything to prove to her. She’s nothing to me, not a girlfriend or even a friend. Just a toy that I don’t want broken yet.
The cafeteria is crowded as hell today, and by the time we make it to a table, I’m ready to toss my lunch in the trash and walk out. All the people and commotion make me feel edgy. Ren strikes up a conversation with some kid sitting across from us. His name is Sillas, and he looks like the all-American type, right down to the polo T-shirt he’s wearing.
His blond hair is cut military style, and he’s wearing khakis. Who the fuck wears khakis? I guess if his overall appearance isn’t shocking enough, his next sentence has me spitting my soda out across the table.
“I’m pretty sure my dad sent me here to become friends with other criminals. I’m a hacker, but I haven’t really done anything huge. He wants me to break outside my comfort zone and get into the dark stuff.”