Except things didn’t exactly go as I planned.
“There she is,” said one of them—Russ, as he slowly dragged his feet to the middle of the library, and the others seemed to follow, just as soon as they put their things down on the coffee tables near the front.
My stomach twisted—this time it had nothing to do with throwing up.
“I thought she might be hiding in here,” said Levana, a clear, wide grin on her face as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.
They came closer, slowly.
I kept my eyes on the book, following the letters, reading, but I had no idea what any of it said. My hands hurt from how tightly I was gripping the covers. My instincts, my whole body knew exactly what was coming, even if my mind hadn’t caught up yet. Didn’t want to. Or was too overwhelmed.
“What do you think is wrong with her, anyhour?” said Anika.
“What do you think goes on in that strange head of hers?”
“Is it a Spade thing—huh, Cook? You seem normal enough…”
“My momma always says Spades are half buried even when they’re alive.”
“You know what I think? She’s just plain evil.”
“Maybeshe’sthe one who did the curse.”
“Maybe she’s the one who’s poisoned the whole timeline.”
My ears were burning. My forehead was sweating. My anger was rearing its head out, too, amidst all the chaos—anger toward myself first, and thenthem.
Did they not know thatIdidn’t know what was wrong with me?
“D’you think it’s worth offing her, just to see if it solves the problem?” Russ said.
I swallowed hard. Looked up at them where they stood, very close to the last shelf near where I sat.
Please go away, please, please,I prayed in vain.
“There’s something wrong with her eyes,” said Anika. “Have you seen howemptythey are?”
And I thought,they see it, too.
“Have you seen how she just…doesn’t care?”
A tick of silence.
“Hey, weirdo. What in Time’s Temper iswrongwith you?!” Levana’s voice rang in my ears.
That’s as much as I was willing to take. I knew that if I stayed there a second longer, I was going to say something, and it wasn’t going to serve me to pick a fight now. Not against all of them. Not when I was already in a bloody battle with myself.
So, I closed the book, put it in my backpack without really thinking if such a thing was even allowed. I left the rest of them there on the coffee table to sort out tomorrow—I needed to get out of here, right now, before things escalated.
The others continued to talk. I kept my head down, swung my backpack over my shoulder, my hands shaking. The five of them were there by the shelf, two on one side and three on the other. Plenty of space for me to go through and get to the other side as fast as my legs could carry me.
So, I did.
I should have gone all around them, to the other side of the reading tables, though. I should have just gone all around.
Because just when I thought I’d made it to the other side, a foot appeared out of nowhere in front of mine, and I saw it a split second too late. I couldn’t stop or step away.
The black boot hit mine just below the shin hard, and then the marble floor was getting closer and closer. I fell forward, too stunned to scream, to do anything but put my hands out.
