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I'm not about to cause suspicion with something as simple as coffee, especially when denying myself the good things right now isn't something I want to do. I wait in line withHail to the Kingby Avenged Sevenfold playing on my old school pop punk playlist. The line is freaking crazy this morning and by the time I reach Connor, I've only got minutes left before our class is due to start.
Psych as a Profession isn't something that I want to be late for. The professor might not be an asshole like Crawford was, but I don't want to piss off anybody else. Especially not with finals just around the corner.
"Morning, Briar, did you have a good Thanksgiving weekend?" Connor asks while making my drink without even having to check my order.
We make small talk and I try to be my normal mopey-yet-bubbly self. Snarking where I should snark, trying not to overanalyze everything that comes out of my mouth.
Lying is something I should be better at, and I’m not terrible at it, but it makes me feel so freaking gross. Like each lie is a cold, wet, slimy bug crawling down my spine.
I take my coffee from him with a smile and athank you,and make my way into class. I save the seat next to me for Connor, like usual, before opening up my laptop.
Turns out that trying to act as normal as possible feels weird as Hell. I smile at people I would normally smile at, ignoring the rest of them because people are not my thing, and everybody seems to have worked that out finally.
It only took a whole semester.
By the time Connor walks into class, followed swiftly by Professor Rainwater, I'm just about ready to go and prepared for class.
Connor drops into his seat beside me with a tight smile. Something is definitely wrong, but Professor Rainwater starts talking so I don’t get a chance to ask him what it is.
I try to brush it off, telling myself there’s no way he noticed something off with me. That he couldn’t possibly know anything that happened, genius or not.
We sit through class, barely talking unless needed, and I try to focus as much as I can, knowing that finals are coming.
Just as Professor Rainwater starts to wrap up her lecture, my laptop pings and a notification pops up in my inbox.
I’m not ready for what I find waiting for me. An email from an unknown sender—I have no idea how that’s even possible—with the title ‘I know’. My stomach drops as I click on the message and I think I’m going to be sick. My hands go clammy and I feel the blood drain from my face as I read the short sentence on my screen.
I know what you did, but it's okay. Because I'll protect you too.
What the fuck even is my life right now?
* * *
Walking to Intro to Psych with Sawyer by my side, I’m absolutely sweating bullets. I’ve made it through the first two days of college this week without stressing too much about Crawford. Somehow, Penn hasn't noticed that anything's wrong with me up to now, and Connor hasn't said anything either. Everything's just been as normal as I've been able to make it. Apparently I’m a better actress than I thought, because my nights have been riddled with nightmares of what happened.
I’m certain that the twins are starting to go a little nuts with their levels of concern for me, but there isn’t anything I can do. If Crawford isn’t chasing me in my dreams, then I see Iris burning.
Sleep really hasn’t been my friend.
Today is Wednesday, which means it's supposed to be Crawford Day, which also means that I have to sit there and watch while people question where he is and I have no idea how I'm going to handle it. I vomited first thing this morning and haven’t even managed to drink coffee. My stomach is in knots and I can barely focus.
I know I’m just going to have to pretend I’m sick, because I look like death and I feel like it too. It’s like ice has seeped into my bones and taken hold. I’m just thankful that the sweater-weather excuses my jeans, hoodie, and beanie combo, because they’re helping to hide just how awful I look right now.
Sawyer is walking me into class for a change rather than letting me go in alone, like he normally would, because the guys freaked out when they saw me this morning.
The change up would seem abnormal, but considering he’s been attached to me like glue the last few weeks, thankfully, it doesn’t seem odd.
I hope.
But his insistence also wasn’t something I was willing to fight him on this morning. I’m too drained to fight anyone. I thought I should have a sick day after a conversation with everybody this morning, but Travis insisted that it might just look a little too suspicious for me to miss today with Crawford being gone.
So I’m here, despite the fact that I’d rather be anywhere else.
Hell, I’d take being back at the hellhole that I used to live in right now compared to being in this classroom.
I take my usual seat, Sawyer on my left, an open seat for Connor to my right, my foot bouncing on the floor as anxiety rips through me. Connor is going to have questions. While he might not suspect me of foul play, or anything nefarious in general, he’s at least going to direct his questions to me. I’m the only person he speaks to in class, so who else would he talk to?
While I know logically he’s not going to be questioning me, my stomach tightens again at the thought of trying to seem nonchalant about it, considering Crawford's disdain for me was known by everyone in this class.
