Page 30 of Veiled

I look up. And up. And up from my spot in the food line. The guy in front of me is really tall, his normally light brown hair now a few shades darker, thanks to the mud still caked in it, and it takes me a second to place him.

“Yeah. Hey, you’re my new lab partner, right?” I ask, pretty sure that’s right.

“That’s me. Name’s Zeke.” He grins, the kind of easy, boyish grin that lets you know he’s rarely not smiling, as the line moves forward and we start to make our selections.

“I’ve been hoping I would run into you. We need to split up the supply list, which we could totally do after next class, but I was thinking maybe we could hang out sometime too? You know, to get comfortable with each other before we have to work under pressure as a team in class and all.”

I blink, caught somewhere between surprise and uncertainty. Is he nervously flirting or simply being friendly? Either way, I can see the merit in his idea, so I nod. “Oh—yeah. That’s a good idea.”

“Cool,” he says, relief, and maybe a slight blush, flashing across his face. He pulls his cell phone from his pocket and hesitantly holds it out. “Here. Put your number in and I’ll send you a message so you have mine.”

I type my name and number while the servers dish my food up.

“I sent you a message. Let me know whenever you’re free. We can figure out lunch, or dinner, or something.”

I manage a small “Sounds good,” but keep my head down, focusing on the food I’ve piled onto my plate while we’ve been talking. I spot an empty table tucked into the back left corner and make my way toward my sanctuary.

I don’t even make it ten steps.

“Just bring a little tequila when you meet up, and she’ll be ready to tear your clothes off before she even knows your name,” a deep voice that I recognize says from behind me. The already quiet room goes even quieter.

Aiden.

And standing right beside him, laughing like it was the funniest thing he’s ever heard, is Lucas.

Of course, Lucas’s friends are as big of assholes as he is.

“Oh, and a little tip,” Lucas’s voice cuts in. “She likes it really rough, I’ve seen the marks. Big bruises, scrapes, dried blood. Be sure you really make a mess of her, or she’ll have another guy waiting to come in before you’re even dressed.’”

The words hit like a slap. My tray nearly slips from my hands.

He isn’t talking about Aiden.

I thought I’d always hidden the evidence of my dad's more aggressive fits, but I guess not well enough if Lucas noticed. I can only imagine how jealous he’s been all these years if he thinks they all came from heated hookups after I wouldn’t sleep with him. If only he knew.

A ripple of whispers sweeps through the room, more than a few laughs, too. My face burns, but I keep walking. I don’t look back, because I know exactly what Lucas wants: a reaction.

One foot in front of the other. Keep breathing. Keep moving. Keep the perfect fake smile glued to my face, the same one I wore in public with my dad when I had to pretend we were a happy family.

The tray shakes in my hands, so I grip it tighter, trying to steady the tremor. The table in the corner feels miles away, but I make it. Sit down. Pick up my fork.

And I eat.

Walking back to my room, I can feel people looking at me and whispering. One Bravo recruit is even stupid enough to follow me out of the dining hall to ask for my number while telling me he’ll give me everything I want.

I make it perfectly clear that he can go fuck himself.

Holding my head high and pretending it doesn't faze me while making a mental note to start taking my earbuds with me as much as possible. I've learned from my past, and I know that the less I can hear it, the less my mental health will take a hit.

Locking my door behind me, the truth of everything I’ve lived through and what my sentenced future looks like overtakes me.

I crank my shower as hot as it can go for the second time in just as many hours, turn on music, and adjust the head of the shower so I can sit against the wall while the water pours down on me. I don't think I have the emotional strength to hold myself up right now, and if the water washes away my tears as they fall, there’s no proof they ever existed.

I don't know how long I stay in the water, but by the time I get out, my legs are numb, and my fingers and toes are pruned like life’s been leached out of me.

Putting on an old shirt of Mattey’s, the fabric swallowing me whole, I feel small. Safe. It’s as though the extra space can shield me from everything I don't want to remember.

But I know I won’t be able to hide from the nightmares. Not tonight. Not when my worlds have collided, and my resolve is shaken.