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After standing alone in the elevator and cussing an imaginary Harper out all the way up to my floor, all the way to my room, and the whole time while changing and heading back to my last class of the day, I felt a lot better. It seemed blind hatred did a lot for anxiety, and I didn’t feel a thing.
Imagine that.
Sexual tension and anger.
Who needs therapy when I have both in spades at this point?
My final class of the day, Government, was a small class of twelve, and not a single douchebag from either set of minions were there. I almost cried from happiness when I walked in and realized I only had normal, nothing-special-about-them, run-of-the-mill assholes in there with me.
Plus, Justin and Luna! I didn’t have a single other class with them, so white days were already my favorite for that reason alone.
Though I’d have to contend with Harper each white day now.
Fuck.
Once again, the realization struck me of just how fucked it was to feel so grateful that all the usual dicks were in this class and none of the clones or demons. Even though those “usual” dicks were still just as bad as the worst of the worst back in Indiana. This place was on a whole new level. Still, I’d take whatever break I could get.
I was late to class, obviously, so I didn’t get to sit by Luna and Justin, but they saw me walk in. I hoped Thursday I’d get to sit by them on our next white day. I wasdyingto tell them what happened—if they hadn’t already heard all about it. Word traveled fast around here. It was disturbing.
The teacher was rather dry, which wasn’t a good thing when dealing with something as boring as government, but all things considered, it wasn’t terrible. I’d gladly listen to Mr. Terry’s nasally voice drone on about politics all day before dealing with Damian or Harper.
The bell rang, and every student in the class rushed for the door. I didn’t have time to talk to Luna and Justin because I had to rush to my locker before Damian got to his. I left them with, “Sorry! I have to hurry to avoid the Big Bad Wolfe, but I’ll message you in a bit!” and hurried toward the door.
Mr. Terry gave me a curt nod and that awkward, tight-lipped smile people give when they didn’t want to actually smile. I responded with a just-as-awkward wave and quickly made my way out.
As I darted through the student traffic, keeping my head low and trying to blend in as much as possible, I wondered if I could get my hands on Damian’s schedule. I didn’t care so much about Asher, but if I had Damian’s, it might just solve a lot of issues.
Hope began to blossom in my chest at the thought of eating lunch in my apartment to avoid him at lunch and figuring out exactly how to pack my backpack to decrease locker visits and only go when he wouldn’t be around.
Oh, that’s a good idea.
I made a mental note to talk to Luna and Justin about that. Surely, one of them knew someone around there who could get a copy for me.
After a quick check down the hall toward my locker and finding no Damian, I speed-walked through the crowd, got my shit, and got out of there. I had plans, and the last thing I wanted was for Damian to stop me.
When I got back to my apartment, I stopped short of my door. There, sitting outside of it, was my gym bag with all my clothes inside. There was a letter on top with pretty, loopy handwriting.
__________________________________________
Dearest Temperance,
I found this in one of the nasty dumpsters out back behind the cafeteria. It was covered in grease and discarded food. What a shame! Some people have no respect for their belongings. You really should watch where you leave your things and take better care of them! After all, it’s not like you have a lot of money to go around replacing things all the time. Your parents really should have taught you better about responsibility and the importance of money! Then again, maybe they died before they got to.
Anyway, you’re super welcome for me returning your things.
Have a great day!
Harper
__________________________________________
There was a hastily, but still near perfectly drawn heart by her name. My nostrils flared as I crumpled the note in my fist. I looked down at my bag, and I could see just how bad it was.
It was turquoise with black strings. Well, itusedto be. Now it was covered in black gunk, and I could smell it from where I stood. It looked and smelled like someone had cleaned a fast-food restaurant grill with it before leaving it to rot in the summer sun for a month. I unlocked my door and opened it before hooking my fingers through the drawstrings to carry it inside, careful not to touch the nastiness. I was no idiot. I took it straight to the kitchen to open it in the sink.
When I did, I was so happy I’d made that decision.
The inside was full of old mushed-up fruit, what looked like pudding butdid notsmell like it, banana peels, and random trash. The uniform inside was absolutely destroyed. I sighed heavily. That uniform was the one Luna let me borrow.
