Just perfect. Of all people, it had to be her. She’s striding toward me, her eyes narrowing as she gets closer. My heart stutters, a flood of panic hitting me hard.
My first instinct is to turn and run, to find some corner to hide in until she’s gone. But I can’t. I’m too battered—physically and emotionally—to walk let alone run. My body is aching, my mind is scattered, and my heart won’t be able to take it.
“Addie, what the hell happened?” Sam’s voice is sharp, but not unkind. She’s alarmed. Her eyes move over me, narrowing as she takes in the limp, the scar, and the overall dishevelled wreck that I’ve apparently become.
Yes, I’m fully aware I look horrendous. I’ve had better days, to say the least.
“Sam, please.” The words come out fast, colder than I mean them to. “Do me a favor and leave me alone. Just this once. Listen to me.”
Her eyes widen in surprise. I can tell she wasn’t expecting that from me. Hell, I wasn’t expecting it either. I bite the inside of my cheek, regretting how sharp I sounded, but too weak to give it another thought.
She opens her mouth like she’s about to argue, but I cut her off before she can get a word in.
“Ask Naomi,” I say quickly, keeping my voice flat and distant. I don’t wait for her response. I push past her, hobbling down the hall pathetically. I hear her mutter something under her breath, but I don’t care. I just keep walking. If you can even call it walking.
This isn’t about her. I’ve got more important things to deal with—like apologizing to my teacher.
***
He’s at his desk when I walk in, flipping through a stack of papers. His head lifts as I step inside. He doesn’t say anything at first, just watches me, his eyes flicking from my limp to my face. I see the exact moment he notices the scar. His expression doesn’t change much, but I can tell it registers.
“Good morning, Miss Ross,” Mr. Anderson says evenly, his voice polite but watchful. “Do you have a reason for being absent this morning?”
Here we go.
I take a deep breath, trying to put on my best apologetic face. Maybe add a hint of teary-eyed desperation for effect? No, that’s overkill.
“I’m really sorry,” I start, my voice rushing out too fast. “I’ll catch up on the work, I promise. Extra assignments, whatever you need. I just—”
He raises a hand, and I shut my mouth. Right. Don’t ramble.
“That you will,” he says, his eyes steady. “But first, you’ll explain why you missed my class.”
His tone is calm, not angry, which both surprises and worries me. I clear my throat, trying to steady my nerves. “I, um… I fell,” I say, glancing at the floor. “I’m clumsy. It was an accident.”
He tilts his head slightly, and I swear I see his eyes flick to the scar on my cheek. I feel it burning under his gaze, even though he doesn’t ask about it. He just nods once and looks over it.
“That explains the limp,” he says calmly. “You should be more careful.”
Careful. Right. Sure.
I nod, maybe too passionately. “Yeah. I had trouble getting here, that’s why I’m so late.” At least that part is true.
He doesn’t speak right away. Instead, he leans back slightly, watching me with that quiet, unsettling patience that makes me feel slightly uncomfortable.
“In that case, you shouldn’t have come at all… if thatisthe case?” he says finally. His voice is still calm, but the implication is clear. It makes me panic.
I wish he’d just go along with it.Just let it go.
My heart kicks up in my chest. I nod again, blurting out, “I didn’t want to miss class. I thought I could handle it.”
I may have just salvaged that. Another half-truth. But it’s good enough.
He studies me for another long moment. I stay perfectly still, not daring to look away. My pulse pounds in my ears.
He sighs. “Very well, Miss Ross,” Anderson says quietly. “Just make sure you don’t make your injuries worse. Take care of yourself.”
That’s it. No more questions. He turns back to his papers like the conversation never happened.
