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Thank God. “Please hurry…”
I heard him cut the engine, fumble with the phone, then the sound of a car door. Wind whipped through the speaker.
“Which doors?” Sam asked, out of breath.
Running. He was running to rescue me.“The bright green ones.”
“Got it.”
Thirty seconds. Only thirty more seconds of terror, and he’d be here.
The light flickered through the blinds again.
I tensed and let out a pathetic whimper.
But the one good thing about this was that Disgrace wasn’t in my head anymore. She didn’t sit there under the desk with me and call me a useless burden.
No; instead, she was outside my window in physical form.
Even though I was terrified, it was nice to have that glass between us instead of surrounding us. When she was in my head, it felt like I was trapped in a fishbowl with a violent, angry betta fish and I was nothing but a defenseless goldfish.
Knock-knock.
I jolted and turned.
Sam stood in the window next to my classroom door, wearing blood-red pants, a black button-down with the sleeves rolled up to expose his thick, veiny forearms, and a fierce and powerful expression.
He looked passionate. He looked wound up.
He looked pissed.
I watched his mouth form the words “I’m here” as his voice said it through the phone.
Then without waiting for goodbye, he hung up and tucked his phone into his pocket.
I scrambled from under the desk to let him in.
As soon as I opened the door, he wrapped me in a tight embrace.
Warmth. Safety. Reunion.
His Forbidden Forest scent swirled through my nostrils again, reminding me of what we did over the weekend. The silvery tones of our moonlit skin swam through my mind’s eye.
“I’m here,” he repeated, softer this time. “Where is he?”
“O-outside.”
Sam pulled away from our embrace and made a beeline to the window.
He poked a thick finger in the blinds and tugged them down, just like he’d tugged down my dress while I straddled him Saturday.
My face flared.
Sam peered out the window determinedly, unapologetically. Like his icy eyes could shoot laser beams at anything he didn’t like and make it explode.
I took him in for a moment like that, with the speckles of sunlight filtering over his face. The artful way his dark curls fell over his forehead. The way the light passed across his irises, making them shine icy blue like the bottom part of the glacier in that motivational poster on my classroom wall.
Something stirred in me. Relief? Surely, it was relief, paired with admiration, awe, reverence, and gratitude.
