“You're gonna get hurt,” she said with an evil smile.Then her gaze shifted to Emily.“I enjoyed watching your little show, and I still do,” she said to Emily, who had turned pale.
“Let's go,” I said to Em, grabbing her arm and walking away.
“The game is starting soon,” she shouted behind us, and those words hit sharply; a shiver ran down my spine.
“Don't pay attention to her, Em.”
Our focus shifted once we walked inside the classroom; a strong smell of fresh paint filled the whole room.
“Please open all the windows,” Professor Gerosa shouted.Everyone started plugging their noses and complaining.
“Are you planning to poison us?”somebody laughed, and others cheered.
“Oh, don't be so dramatic.We have no other free classes, so we will stay here.”Professor Gerosa gave me a weird stare.A student cried out, “So let us go home; if I inhale this air, I will die.”Some students acted out a dramatic scene of dying.
When we took our seats, I looked around, remembering how those walls were covered with my name.The desks were freshly painted and clean.Somebody had already started writing something on them.
I could not help but wonder who could have penned that.And more importantly, what could possibly motivate them?Was it Zane or Jake?Or perhaps the eccentric Clous, who thought it would be unsettling?Or maybe V, who mentioned that the game is starting.What did she mean by that?
As much as I wanted to dismiss this as mere coincidence, a troubling thought crept in: was someone in my room, reading my diary?The very idea sent chills down my spine.Nobody knew about it; I hadn't shared it with a soul.So how could this have been happening?A knot twisted in my stomach, and a wave of nausea washed over me.I raised my hand, urgently needing to excuse myself to the restroom.
“Hey, are you alright?”Emily asked.
“I'm just feeling a bit off,” I replied quickly, hurrying out.My head spun, likely because I hadn't had any water.I needed to buy a bottle from the vending machine, but first, I had to splash some cold water on my face and wrists.
I entered the bathroom, relieved to find it empty.I turned on the faucet and held my wrists under the cold stream.After splashing some water on my face, I felt a bit more grounded.
I stepped outside, making my way toward the vending machine.Just my luck—no water left.Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a reflection behind me, and I gasped.
“You look a bit pale,” a deep voice commented as I turned to see Zane standing there.He moved around and leaned casually against the vending machine, a bottle of water in hand.My eyes instinctively focused on the bottle; my thirst was undeniable.“Want some?”he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“No thanks.I'm pretty sure it's poisoned,” I shot back, irritation creeping into my tone.
“I just got it from here a few minutes ago.Look, it's still sealed.”He held the bottle out to me.
“As I said, no thanks!”I snapped, scanning the machine for any juice instead.His gaze lingered on me, almost tangible in its intensity.I finally turned to face him.“Do you want something?”I asked, feeling increasingly uncomfortable with his presence.
“No, just hanging out,” he shrugged.
“Don't you have a class to be in?”
“Are you worried that I don't?”he teased, grinning.
“I couldn't care less where you are, as long as it's not near me,” I retorted.
“Ouch,” he replied, remaining where he was, unfazed.I couldn't bear to linger any longer, so I walked away, leaving him standing there like a statue.“See you around!”he called out playfully.
“Let's hope not,” I shot back without turning.
Somehow, I managed to get through the class without any water.Before catching the bus home, I stopped at a nearby café to grab a bottle.My shoes were soaked from the relentless rain; even with an umbrella, I arrived home drenched.It had been raining all week.
As I walked up to the front door, I could hear raised voices.I opened the door to find my parents in a heated argument, both panting heavily.I stood frozen, staring at them.
“What's going on?”I asked, my heart racing.
“Nothing, sweetheart, just a discussion,” my dad replied, turning away.
“Mom?”She glanced at me, and I could see a mix of anger and sorrow in her eyes.She didn't respond, instead heading to the kitchen.Left with no choice, I quietly retreated to my room.
