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Xander.
He’s by the window, in front of Cole, who’s telling him something in his ear while clutching a book.
He doesn’t seem to be listening since his entire concentration is on me. It’s blank, though, as if he’s not really looking at me.
But he is.
I can feel his gaze, not on my skin or on my face, but deep in my soul. It’s invading me and touching parts he has no business touching.
I turn around and flop into my seat, fighting my heated cheeks. Just why the hell did I have to be in the same class with the four horsemen during my last year in RES?
I was almost surviving without having to see Xander’s face in every damn class.
Mrs Stone is speaking about a test, but I can’t for the life of me concentrate on what she’s saying. My mind keeps flickering to the back tables, where I feel someone watching me.
My nape prickles with unwanted attention and I squirm in my seat as if that will make the discomfort go away.
Something hits my arm before a crumpled piece of paper falls beside me. Letting my hair cover my eyes, I peek behind me to be greeted by Ronan’s grin.
He’s sitting right beside Xander, where the latter is clenching his pencil in a death grip. Ronan stretches both legs in front of him, twirling a black pen between his index and middle finger. He motions at the paper with his brows.
I throw a fleeting glance at Xander, but he’s focused on Mrs Stone. His expression is neutral, but his shoulders are rigid. Why the hell is he so tense?
After retrieving the paper, I unfold it discreetly. It’s a scribble in Ronan’s messy handwriting with a smiley emoji at the top.
‘Give the world a middle finger with a smile.’
I stare back at him and he winks. My lips instinctively curve in a smile.
Xander’s harsh gaze slides from Ronan to me and then stays there.
On me.
It doesn’t waver nor does he attempt to look away. He’s trying to intimidate me so I’ll be the one to cut off eye contact and cower down like I do every time he’s in my vicinity.
If looks could slice me open, Xander’s would be the sharpest blade right now.
But there’s something he’s forgetting. His war doesn’t scare me anymore. It can’t be worse than the fog or Kir’s disappointed gaze or the fear in his little eyes when he thought I’d leave him alone.
So I continue smiling. At Ronan, not at Xander.
I flip off those who slowly broke me, who turned me into this pathetic shell of a person.
Those who took pleasure in igniting my breaking point and watched me as I fell.
Those who threw me under the bus instead of pulling me to safety.
Those who fed the fog and allowed it to rule my life.
I follow Ronan’s advice and give the world the middle finger.
3
Xander
There’s a certain company in loneliness.
Yes, that sounds crazy, and yes, I still stand by it. This could be due to the coffee, er…vodka coffee I just had, but who cares?
