Page 28 of Encounter

As the last lecturefinally ended and everyone poured out of the door, I still scrambled around to get my things. My hands trembled, even though I tried my best to hide it, and even Zola noticed.

“Are you okay?” she asked, fixating her big green eyes on me. “You’ve been really distracted today. Keep checking your phone like you’re expecting some big news.” Her smile was calming, understanding.

“Oh, yeah, it’s nothing,” I blurted, shaking my head. “I have a doctor's appointment—nothing serious, but you know me.” I already felt guilty about lying, even though I couldn’t really tell her the truth.

I’m meeting a killer for hire in some fishy gym on the other side of town to learn self-defense.

Not seeing through my excuse, Zola nodded. “I see. Just relax, I’m sure it’s going to be alright.” With a faint smile, I met her eyes for a moment, then noticed some girls waiting outside of the room, looking at her. After giving me a wave, Zola rushed to the door to meet with them. All smiles and chatter, I watched them as they disappeared into the hallway.

I was glad Zola seemed to have found some new friends. She told me about meeting them at her singing lessons and discovering they attended our school, only being a year above us.

I couldn’t blame her, and even if I was a little jealous, I knew I had no right to be. I pushed her away more than I was a true friend to her—I was lucky she even still cared for me.

With a sigh, I pushed my hair back and checked my phone again. Every single time I had looked at it for the past few days, ever since he sent me the message detailing our meeting, my stomach wouldn’t settle. Surely, he had to cancel. Iknewhe was going to. There was no way this—all of this—was happening. There was no way he would waste his time with me, yet... the time for our meeting was coming closer and closer and there was no sign of him bailing.

Smiling awkwardly at the professor as I left the room, I slowly walked through the hallway, trying to take deep breaths and stop my legs from trembling. As I passed the bathrooms, I hesitated for a split second, wondering if I should do it.

My hands twitched, ready and all too willing to reach for the razor blade at the bottom of my bag, hidden between packs of gum and pens.No, I can’t.

Shaking my head, I resisted the urge to relieve the pressure. If he somehow noticed—if I bled more than intended—that would be a problem. I didn’t need another reason to fret.

As I got to the parking lot of the university, I quickly found the driver from Dad’s company waiting for me.I miss my walks home... but it beats getting kidnapped again.

“Afternoon, sir,” he said when I got in. Looking at me through the rear-view mirror and over his glasses, he was getting ready to start driving when I interrupted him.

“I’m not going straight home today. Could— Can you take me outside of the Springstein mall? I... want to do some shopping. You can just drop me off there, I’ll take a taxi back home later.” I spoke with less decisiveness than I wanted to. It wasn’t like I was a child who couldn’t make their own decisions. And he was hired to do what I asked. Still, I felt like I was somehow inconveniencing or annoying him.

“Of course.” Nothing more—he turned his attention back to driving and didn’t say anything else.

When I arrived and the driver was long gone, I headed toward the smaller east entrance of the shopping center to wait for Chast as he instructed me to. My entire chest vibrated with intense waves of fear and excitement.

I’ve ever done anything so out of the box in my entire life.

Maybe it was all some delayed teenage rebellion. I hadn’t done anything stupid or risky when I was younger, while my classmates drove drunk, burned trashcans, and had sex in the bathroom at their parent’s gala. Meanwhile, I was at home studying or playing piano.

What would Mom think about this, I wondered... Even though I didn’t know her, I had a feeling she could tell me if this was a good idea or not.Mothers know these things, right?

My train of thought was interrupted with a car horn. I looked around, and it took me a moment to find Chast’s large black Chevy. Giving me a two finger wave as he leaned over his wheel, parked at the side, I had to stare at him for a moment and blink a few times to convince myself he was there. Only when his brows drew together into an unsatisfied frown caused by my stalling did I realize he really was waiting for me. It was happening.

Rushing across the road, I nearly stumbled over the curb as I was walking around to get in the passenger seat.

“You really turned up, huh?” Chast looked at me in disbelief, and I could almost hear admiration in his voice. While I barely heard his words over my panicked heartbeat—sweating buckets and probably looking like a complete nervous wreck—I gave him a semi-confident nod while I fastened my seatbelt.

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