I move away from Mira’s computer just as she returns and begins packing up her things.
“Good luck, baby,” I say. She pauses at the endearment, as do I. Both of us are startled. I didn’t intend to call her that—it just slipped out—but it feels right. It feelsgood. It’s endearing and possessive at the same time, laying a claim to her.
Instead of responding, she hurries to finish stuffing all her things into her backpack, giving me a nod before rushing out of the room. I take a few minutes to make a reservation at a nice restaurant, book a slot at a nearby candle-making boutique, then call the local zoo to inquire about an idea that’s been swirling around in my mind. As soon as I’m done setting up plans with the zoo administrator, I get a call from Connor.
I’m not happy with him right now. Usually, we get along well enough, but things have been tense between us since Mira came into the picture. He’s made his disdain for her clear, and he’s scared her and made my pursuit of her unnecessarily difficult. I don’t think she’d be half as uncomfortable as she is if it weren’t for his unpleasantness.
“Yeah?” I say, picking up the call.
“You’re right that your girl is trustworthy, as in she won’t talk,” he says. “She is, however, going to try to create some problems. I tapped into the bug you have in her bag. Her conversation with the guidance counselor ismostinteresting. You should take a listen.”
He hangs up on me. My chest tightens and my heart speeds as Connor’s words burrow deep, creating a hum of anxiety that tingles through my body. I navigate over to a secure browser on my laptop, pop in my headphones, and connect them to the bug I have in Mira’s backpack.
Static greets me at first. Crackles and pops that quickly morph into two distinct voices. One belongs to Mira, the other to an unfamiliar woman who must be Mira’s guidance counselor.
“Are yousureyou’re interested in that? You have an excellent record at Greywood. As your counselor, I’d advise you to avoid transferring altogether, but if youmusttransfer, then at least wait until next year. A mid-year transfer will be difficult to execute, and there’s no guarantee you’ll retain any scholarships at your new university.Ifyou’re accepted in the first place.”
What—the—fuck?A goddamntransfer? Mira wants totransferaway from Greywood?
“I’d like to explore my options,” Mira responds, her voice steady. “If you could guide me in the right direction, recommend programs that offer scholarships or grants—ones that I have a decent shot of getting into—I’d appreciate it.”
A long pause ensues, during which my blood pressure shoots through the roof. The shuffling of papers sounds through my headphones, underscoring my rising anger.
“There are a couple options that might be worth looking into,” the guidance counselor says. “No guarantees, but possibilities. Mira…” she trails off. “Is everything alright? Is there a reason you want to get away from campus? You’re one of the animal sciences department’s brightest pupils; you’re one of Greywood’s most promising students. We don’t want to lose you. If you’re having troubles on campus that you’re trying to run from—”
Mira coughs. “No, there are no… troubles. No. I just, um, want a change of scenery. The… the Vermont weather doesn’t agree with me.”
While I’m furious that Mira’s taking such pains to try to run from me, I’m also consumed by relief that she says nothing about me, Connor, or Seamus. This conversation isn’t a guarantee that she’ll never talk about us, but it’s a good indicator that she intends to keep her mouth shut. After this, maybe Connor will stop seeing her as nothing more than a liability.
“The weather?” The guidance counselor repeats dubiously.
“Please let me know which programs you’d recommend,” Mira says, attempting to shift gears. “I’d like to start sending out applications and getting recommendation letters as soon as possible. If a transfer isn’t feasible, I understand, but I’d like the option.”
“Very well,” the guidance counselor says. “If that’s truly what you want.”
“It is,” Mira confirms firmly.
I listen as Mira says her goodbyes, popping out my headphones andseething. I only let myself stew for a few moments, though; then I get down to doing what I do best:think.Plan.Strategize a way to get past this hurdle.
I’m furious with her for having the gall to try to run, and yet, I can’t truly blame her. She’s still afraid for her life. She must see this as the safest option for her—the best way out. While my base instinct is to carry her back to the house and show her exactly how bad a punishment from me can get, I push that aside for now.
I’m serious about Mira. I shouldn’t be, it’s too soon, yet I feel a surety when it comes to her; a certainty that she’s the one for me, and I’m the one for her. If I want to keep her in the long run, I have to be strategic. Fear is not a good way to build a relationship; connection is. Punishments can frighten her into obeying and make her beholden to me for a time. But if she comes to care for me and truly connects with me, forms an attachment to me, I can keep her forever.
I need her to be content. I need her to behappy. I need her to not only be afraid of the punishments I amsolooking forward to delivering, but to also feel drawn to the happiness and opportunities I can offer her. She likes animals? I’ll get her a house full of them. She wants to be a vet? I’ll get her into the best, most prestigious program. She wants safety and security? I’ll deliver that in spades. She wants to be free of the fear of her stepfather? I’ll kill him with my bare fucking hands.
First, we’re going to have a good day together. I’m going to pretend that I never heard her unfortunate conversation until tonight, when we come home. When I have her in my bed. Then, I can get to the correction; now, it’s time for something more lighthearted.
Fortunately, a part of living my life means becoming an excellent actor. She will have no clue that I know anything until it’s too late. I’m still going to treat her, give her a wonderful afternoon, get to know her and take interest in her, andthenI’ll pounce on her like the prey she’s just morphed into.
I take a few minutes to compose myself, compose my emotions and muster my facial expression to one of neutrality. Some of those minutes are spent fantasizing exactly what I’ll do to Mira once we get back to the house tonight, but the rest are spent focusing on the plans between now and then. For tonight, I already have all the props and toys I could possibly desire. For now, I want to see Mira smile. There’llbe more than enough time to extract every drop of agonized pleasure she’s capable of giving to me tonight.
When she returns to the library, I’m scribbling away in my notebook, working on an accounting assignment. She seems a bit nervous and out of sorts as she takes the seat beside me, but relaxes when I offer her a calm, casual smile.
“How did your meeting go?” I ask her, taking care to keep my voice even.
She has a chance right now. A chance to admit why she had her meeting, what she talked to her guidance counselor about. If she does, her punishment will be significantly less severe, and both this day and this evening will be spent bonding.
Mira briefly bites her bottom lip, seeming unsure. I think part of herwantsto tell me. Then, a mix of fear and desperation flashes through her eyes before her face goes blank.
