AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Wanna talk about it?” He holds the door open for me out into the busy hall. Sasha and Seth left out the opposite end of the library.
“No, I’m good.”
“Where are you headed? I can walk you there.” He angles his head down, waiting for my answer.
My fingers tighten around my backpack straps. “Uh … no that’s okay.”
He smiles. “I have time.”
“No, really.” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “It’s way out of the way. I better hurry.”
I push through the bodies of students, leaving a confused Ansel behind.
I don’t want him and Sasha to know where I have to go every day. They’ll ask questions, questions I won’t answer, and if they happen to Google my name then they’ll find the truth staring them in the face. A truth I don’t want them, or anyone else here to know. I’m not ashamed of what happened. It was a horrible reality I’ve had to face, still have to every single day, but that doesn’t mean I want to be confronted with stares or difficult questions I don’t want to answer.
My feet pound on the stairs and I tamp down the rising panic inside me.
Ansel and Sasha have become my friends and they’re going to want to know more about me. It’s inevitable, friends typically know everything about you.
The halls begin to empty as most people reach their classes. Turning down the hall that leads to Lachlan’s office I do my best to force my worrisome thoughts away. For a moment, I want to be normal again. I want to talk about this book, and not about how I feel or my memories or how fucked up I am.
The door is cracked when I reach his office and I push it open.
“Dani.” His smile transforms his face and my stomach flip-flops.
I have a crush on my school counselor. If that doesn’t say trouble I don’t know what does.
“Hey,” I breathe, trying to mask my relief at being near him.
Something about his presence calms my insides in a way nothing or no one else can. It doesn’t make sense and I can’t explain it, but I guess that’s how feelings work.
“Did you start the book?” His eyes are lit up with excitement.
“Actually, I finished it.” I dig into my backpack, placing the worn and well-loved copy on his desk.
He picks it up and looks from it to me in surprise. “You finished it.”
“Yep.” I plop onto the loveseat, my backpack at my feet.
“What’d you think?” He sounds hesitant but hopeful.
“It made me mad.”
Laughter explodes out of him. “It makes you think, huh?”
“He’s tortured and in the end he loves Big Brother! It was all for nothing! What was the purpose of it?”
His long fingers wrap around the book and he picks it up, looking it over like he’s never seen it before. “It’s a message warning against the dangers of totalitarianism. I find it enlightening. So, you hated it then?”
“I don’t know how I feel about it, I don’t love it but I’m not quite sure I hated it. I’ll never forget it, though.”
He runs his finger along the cover reverently. “That’s what makes it my favorite. It’s the kind of story that turns in my mind long after I’ve finished it.”
“How many times have you read it?”
He looks down at the weathered pages. “I don’t know. Five, maybe six, times.”
“Wow.” My eyes widen in surprise. “I’ve never read a book more than once.”
