My fingers skim over the paper, eyes threatening to close at any second. I give myself a mental pep talk, telling myself I'll sleep in a few hours. I just have to get through class, free time, dinner… then I'll be on the home stretch. People do it all the time—parents, people studying, shift workers. How hard could it be?
As my eyes scan over the reading material, I have to keep going back, re-reading sentences because my brain can't comprehend anything. Eventually, I manage to finish, barely grasping the material but proud of myself for giving it my best effort.
"Okay, so by now, you should have realized that we're focusing on the Great Depression. I'm sure many of you have heard of it or have previously studied it to some extent," Charmaine says, pacing in front of her desk. "It started in 1929 and lasted until 1939. It was a severe global economic crisis which we know heavily affected the US stock market, leading to the Wall Street crash. As you would have read in your papers, it had a ricocheting effect. Not only did it start hardship in the US with unemployment rates, but multiple countries were also hit. Experts are also confident that this era contributed to World War II."
I slump further in my seat, not at all surprised that we are focusing on something as aptly titled asThe Great Depression.The irony doesn't skip past me, and I shake my head to myself, watching Charmaine.
She continues talking about the flow on effects, the geographical scale, and statistics. But as she drones on, the urge to pass out gets stronger. I push through it, fingers gripping the side of my desk for support. If I can physically hold on to something, it might keep me alert. Maybe that's why the desks have scratch marks embedded in them.
My brain struggles to keep up when I get that niggling feeling back in my stomach. Turning my head, I find Grey watching me, his light eyes scanning my posture, lingering on my clenched hand.
Instantly, my hand relaxes—but not out of relief. I know he's studying me, reading me like a book. I give him a quick smile out of habit before forcing myself to look back at Charmaine.
Eventually, I feel his gaze shift away. I'm hit with a small wave of disappointment, but it's for the best. Knowing I need to keep away from them is hard, but if they tried to fight me on it, that would be harder. At least this way, if Grey avoids me too, it's half the battle fought.
By the time class finishes, I'm back with the personal pep talks as I count down the time until I'm back in my room. Guards escort us to the hall, and we crowd around as usual. Given everything that's happened, I'm surprised to see Damon standing on a table, ready to direct people.
It takes me a few seconds to remember my designated number, even though I still have no idea what the hell they even mean.
Whenthreeis motioned with his fingers, I head toward the hall doors, a sense of déjà vuhitting me as I go to the library. Itfeels like I'm the new patient all over again—nowhere to go, no one to see, trying to hide from prying eyes.
I can only hope that the library is deserted. My success rate of being alone in the library isn't great, but it's the best option I have right now.
The courtyard will be full of students, same with the hall. I could go to one of the empty rooms down the corridor, but it's likely that Theo will be lurking around there.
The scent of dust hits me when I enter and I'm happy to find that I'm the only person in here at the moment. Some groups had already filed out of the hall at Damon's command, but most seemed to be content with going outside to catch some sunshine.
Sitting at the end of an aisle, I lean against the wall, contemplating the option of taking a nap in here. If it stays vacant, I might be able to curl up and sleep for a little while. But I hate the fact I'll have to stay on guard. If someone chooses to come in, I'll be alone and unconscious.
Still, despite my best reasoning that I should stay awake, my eyelids start to feel heavy. I shuffle over so my back is half against the corner of a shelf, and half on the wall, pulling my legs up to my chest. Leaning my chin on my knees, I close my eyes, convincing myself that I'll stay awake with my eyes closed.
I listen out for sounds, on alert for the library door opening at any time, but it stays quiet. It's only when I realize it's too quiet that I jerk my head up. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I've drifted off—having one of those weird naps where you're not awake, but it feels like you are.
My heart nearly yeets itself out of my mouth when my eyes find Theo sitting in front of me, watching me closely.
I didn't even hear him come in.
"Fucking hell," I yelp, head connecting with the wall behind me as I violently jolt. "Ow."
"What the hell did you do that for?" he asks, concern on his face.
I rub the back of my head. "I didn't deliberately headbutt the wall. You scared the shit out of me."
"Are you alright?" he replies, and I know he's not just talking about my head.
Recovering, I take a breath, looking at him. "I'm fine. But I need to go," I tell him, standing up. My legs shake, a wave of drowsiness swimming in my vision. I must sway a little because Theo stands up, grabbing the tops of my arms.
"Sit back down."
"I can't," I mumble, focusing on a red book perched on the shelf to control my dizziness.
Theo squeezes my arms to guide me to the ground, a tiny whine escaping my mouth. He instantly lets me go, eyes honing in on my arms. Reaching forward, he lifts the sleeves of my gray shirt up, spotting the bruises.
"Who the fuck did this?" he asks, fingers skirting around the marks.
"Guards and police officers," I answer in a standoffish tone. "You know what they are like."
His eyes narrow on the bruises for a second before he lowers the material back down. "Point them out to me. I'll deal with them."