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“You were talking with that piece of shit, Marcel, and don’t pretend otherwise.” He leans in close, blocking out almost everything around us. “I saw you.”

I should’ve known. It doesn’t matter how hard I try to watch out. Somebody’s always paying attention. “He’s in my math class. He was absent today and was asking me about what he missed.”

“You’re full of shit.”

“It’s the truth. What, I’m being forced to take classes here, but I can’t talk to anybody about anything?”

“You have a habit of talking to the wrong people.”

“How would I know, either way? I don’t know who’s who.”

“Right.” The snide smile he wears tells me what he thinks of that. It’s not even completely a lie. If Marcel hadn’t told me who he is, I would’ve figured he hates me as much as everybody else around here.

“If I didn’t know better, I would think you miss your friends. Remember them? Rick and Bruno?” I can’t pretend the idea doesn’t chill me, which only makes his smile widen. Like he’s genuinely happy to see me shiver. “I can send you right back there and bring them in to watch you again. Only this time, the rules won’t be so stringent.”

“What’s going on?”

It’s like magic. The sound of Aspen’s voice changes him. He’s still scowling openly, but he’s not blocking me anymore.

She works magic on me, too, but in the opposite direction. My heart was already pounding, but now it’s thanks to the rush of being so close to her. The murdering piece of shit.

But now she’s here, in front of me, and I can’t waste time imagining how I wish I had the guts to kill her. Quinton might’ve done me a favor in the end.

One thing I know how to do is fake a smile. “Hi. We were just chatting.”

The skeptical look she gives him makes me wonder if she’s already warned him against messing with me. It gives me hope, as much as I don’t want to ever be grateful to her for anything.

I have work to do, though. I’ve got to focus on that. “I better get going. I wanted to check out the library, and I still keep getting lost in this place.”

Aspen’s eyes light up. God, I hate her. “I can show you! I could find it with my eyes closed.”

“Could you? I was afraid I’d end up missing half my free period just trying to find it.”

“It’s not that difficult,” Quinton mutters.

He’s not even going to bother pretending this doesn’t piss him off, is he? It’s not easy to act like I don’t notice.

“So how is everything going?” Aspen asks as we walk. I catch a few curious looks from others as we pass them by. I’m sure they’re asking themselves what the hell we’re doing together.

“It’s going okay, I think.” Is she for real? I can’t figure out if she’s asking because she genuinely wants to know or because she’s pretending. Then again, when I remember what she’s done, it’s easier to go with pretending. Nothing about her is real. She’s just putting on an act.

“Good. I know you’ll love the library. It’s where I spend a lot of my time. And Brittney is the best. She’s really cool.”

I wonder if her idea of cool and mine are even remotely the same. “Is she the librarian?”

“That’s only a small part of what she’s capable of. Believe me.” Yeah, I guess I’ll have to. Why does she sound so excited? I’ve never been able to stand people like her. She’s so fake.

It’s all worth it, though. And not only because this means I’m one step closer to living up to my promise. I can feel Quinton burning holes in the back of my head. He’s absolutely furious his little wifey is even speaking to me, much less acting so friendly.

So even though having her this close to me and forcing myself to have a conversation feels a lot like I’m getting my teeth pulled one at a time, I can put on a happy face without much effort. It seems like the better we get along with each other, the more pissed he gets. It’s sort of a bonus, in a way. I almost want to thank him for making my job easier.

When we enter the library, I have to take a second and look around. I can admit it’s striking, and I feel very small under its high ceiling. “Wow,” I whisper. “This is really nice.”

“You don’t need to whisper, you know,” Quinton mutters.

From the corner of my eye, I see Aspen look at him over her shoulder and roll her eyes. I have to pretend I don’t see, though, and again, I need to hide a smile.

“Aren’t you supposed to whisper in a library?” I ask.

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