Page 7 of Forever We Fall

Suddenly, everything inside me is in peril. If he…Here…

Moisture gathers in my stupid, traitorous eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Parry, but parents and guardians are not allowed in the dorms ever and are only allowed on campus on specified visitation days.” The headmaster points at the only pair of boobs in the room. “My secretary will be happy to show you the layout of the room and some pictures, but I’m sure you’ve seen them on our website.”

“What kind of rule is that?” my uncle snaps.

“An insurance kind, I’m afraid.” Headmaster Bridgeport shrugs as though he’s not at all afraid. He really should be. “All boarding schools abide by the same rules. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be in business.”

I’ve never been so happy to have so few possessions. They’re all in my bag. All I need is the dismissal from my uncle.

The headmaster claps once more. “Okay, boys, get going and settle in. Hota will show you to the seamstress for your uniforms, then to the dining hall for supper. Make sure he gets to his classes tomorrow as well.”

“Yes, sir.” Hota nods, studying me.

I wait for my uncle to bar me from leaving. It seems like the whole room does. It’s a collective breath-hold.

Hota doesn't hold his, though. No, he leans over, picks up my bag, and nudges my knee with it, jerking his chin toward the door.

Without looking at my uncle, I stand and turn toward a future that has to be brighter than the past few months.

“Mr. Judge.” The secretary’s voice freezes that positive notion as well as the marrow of my bones. “Your key.” I hear the jingle before my neck can thaw enough to look in her direction. In my uncle’s direction.

“Got it.” Hota snatches the key from her grasp and gives her a smirk. “Thank you for your help, Miss Booth.” Then he turns and ushers me out the door.

“This is you.” We stop at the door two from the end of the hall, and I hold out the key by its ring. The Willoughby Ridge crest and the gold key dangle in the air between us.

He stares at it for a lot longer than is normal. His sharp eyes cut from the key to the lock on the door and back several times as though he has never seen a key and lock before. I’m about to do the honors to get this show on the road, but then I think about the man he came here with. Goose bumps assault my arms, and my stomach sours.

The guy isn’t used to having a lock on his door.

I don’t know how I know. Maybe it’s his shock or the utter fear in his eyes when he took his first step away from that really scary guy. I just know.

“Hold out your hand.”

His jaw works. Slowly, his palm lifts from his side, and I drop the key into the center. His fingers smooth over it. Its ridges and teeth. Its flat top and smooth length.

Fucking hell. My stomach turns toward my toes.

He had a lock, just not the key.

“Go ahead.” I point at the door, swallowing past a lump.

His gaze narrows on me.

“I won’t come in.” I take a step back and then point at my door. “That’s me.” The last on the hall. “Everyone else is in class right now. I’ll go chill and let you get settled in. Just knock when you’re ready to head to the seamstress.” I turn and head toward my room but then turn back.

“Hey, make sure you always lock the door behind you.” I let my gaze search the hall for a second, making certain I find no one about. “I haven’t dealt with any creeps just yet, but they’re here.”

The guy nods, unlocks his door, and then disappears inside. I hear the lock click into place. I let myself into my room, lock my door, and then close my side of the shared bathroom to give him privacy and as much security as I can.

I toss my backpack into the chair in front of the desk built into the wall. It has a laptop and a single picture of me and my parents. It’s a very stilted and formal thing. Makes us look like puppets with sticks up our asses. I’m pretty sure that’s the look they were going for.

My mom even hired a stylist for the shoot. Not only a photographer.

“Ridiculous.”

I give the image a middle-finger salute and hop onto my perfectly made bed with my shoes on. Inspections are random here. We’re supposed to maintain the utmost level of tidiness or receive demerits. My double middle finger rapidly fires around the room, and I silently scream. Then my hands fall impotently to my sides.

---