Page 49 of The Casualty of Us
“It was later on my second day that he came into whatever room they were keeping me locked up in…and I immediately started thrashing around. Banging my head against the wall and doing as much as possible to injure myself. When the other two came in to see what was going on, I screamed at them to get him the fuck away from me or else I was going to kill myself.”
“Holy shit,” she whispers.
“Yeah,” I breathe sharply. “It served two purposes, though. One, to make sure they kept him away from me because I figured that they wouldn’t want to risk anything happening to me. They were all about the money. And two…” Quickly looking down for a distraction, I reach for my mug and finish up. “It raised the suspicions of the group as a whole. Had them watching each other more closely. It was my best chance.”
“I’m sorry—”
“It’s fine.” I wave her off with a quick sip. “Just don’t tell Ollie that shit, he’d lose it.”
“You should.” I look back up to see her face pinch up. “You should tell him. Talk to people more.”
“Maybe.” I give her that, but it’s definitely not a box I want to open right now. “But the point to all this is that I spent the rest of break mulling over none other than Hayes Ender Flynn.”
Her mouth drops a little again. “Oh, fuck.”
“So yeah.” I grin at her. “I’m very ready for the semester to start.”
She closes her mouth with a snap. “I’m somehow scared, concerned, and excited all at the same time, and I don’t know which emotion should win.”
“Why are you scared?” I laugh softly, finishing off the last sip of tea.
“Because I think there’s a whole lot of repression happening right now.”
“Absolutely.” I snort. “But there’s a process to it all.”
“Great.” She nods. “As long as you’re self-aware.”
My phone chimes on the counter, and I look down to see the response I’ve been waiting on for the last ten minutes.
Is that even a question? When and where?
I set my cup down with a grin and pick up the phone, quickly typing out a reply.
Give me twenty minutes. Then come pick me up from the mess hall.
The little bubbles start up as soon as my message goes through, and his next one comes instantly.
Any other stipulations, Fitzroy?
I reach down for my backpack while thinking it over and finish off with a quip that I’m sure he’ll love. Even if he probably doesn’t need the encouragement.
Make sure it looks good. I’ll owe you one.
“Come on.” I grin up at Marley. “I’m on a time crunch now.”
“For what?”
“The plan.” I take off for the door and toss out over my shoulder as she hurries after me, “You’ll see.”
Marley’sso tense by the time we make it to the mess hall that I’m pretty sure she’s waiting for a riot to break out or something. Which really isn’t fair considering that a riot wouldn’t help me at all right now. Nope. A riot probably wouldn’t bother Hayes one bit. Other things, though…me, specifically, well, I can bother the shit out of him.
I’d had to concede that about a week after Christmas as my phone continued to blow up with messages from him. I’d had to concede because it was the most readily available resource at my disposal. I’d had to concede because, as Sun Tzu preaches, you should know your enemy as well as yourself. I’d had to concede to win.
And whatever he’s done or hasn’t done, no matter how much he’s fucked up or hurt me…he cares too, unfortunately. Some part of him. He was too careful with me for it to be anything else.Put too much effort in when there was no lack of other options for him.
So either he thought he could get away with whatever happened and is really just a piece of shit, or there’s more to the story.
Either way, it’s still there. Whatever feelings he has. Those pesky little things don’t just disappear as much as I myself would like them to. They just transform to different shades.
