Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
“I better go,” I say. “My chem class is, like, all the way on the other end of the school. I don’t want to be late.”
“Here. Give me your number.” I might be glowing as I hand her my phone. Did I actually make a friend? And she seems like she’d be the right friend to have. She knows people, and she knows how things go around here. I need that.
We promise to text later before I get my stuff together and leave. The halls are pretty much empty right now. Maybe I need a hall pass, but I can always pretend I didn’t know any better if anybody catches me.
I round a corner, then freeze when I recognize Hayes further down the hall. He’s talking with another guy who I recognize as one of Theo’s friends from outside. “Man, listen to me.” He touches Hayes’s shoulder, but Hayes flings his hand off.
“Don’t act like you know anything about what it’s like.” Hayes turns away from him. I back around the corner before he sees me but can’t help but peer out at him. I should walk away, but I can’t. Does this other guy know about the bridge?
“I walked in and saw it happening with my own eyes. You can’t let it keep happening when it’s doing this to you.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Hayes mutters.
“Tell somebody. Tell your dad.”
“Right. When he’s even in town.”
“He could do something about it, though. You know he would if you would just tell him about this. You can stop it from happening ever again.”
Stop what from happening? I figured Hayes had something going on. A secret something he doesn’t want to show anybody who knows him. That’s probably why he has a problem with me being here. I remind him of whatever made him go out to the bridge.
But this guy knows, too. Even he can’t get through to Hayes. Whatever this is, it’s something he’s determined to keep hidden. What could it be? What’s that serious—or shameful? Something somebody could walk in on.
Only one thing comes to mind. Is he being abused by somebody? Maybe sexually? No, that doesn’t make sense. He’s a strong, healthy guy. He could fight almost anybody off.
What if he doesn’t feel like he can? Like if it’s somebody who has power or authority? A teacher?
Their voices are lower now, and I can hardly hear. I lean out a little farther, straining my ears.
And I end up bumping against a locker.
Hayes’ head snaps around, his eyes landing on me before I can pull my head back and run away. “Hey. What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Shit, shit, shit. I have to get away, but there’s nowhere to go. All the classroom doors are closed, and there isn’t a bathroom anywhere close by to run to. There’s a closet across from where I’m standing, though. I make a break for it—but I’m not fast enough.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Hayes almost slams me into the wall next to the door when he catches me. “Eavesdropping? Spying on me?”
“No. No, I didn’t mean to—”
He snarls in my face, and for a second, I’m actually afraid he’ll bite me. He looks that feral right now.
Instead, he does something worse.
He shoves me into the closet and follows me in, the resounding sound of the lock clicking into place.
6
It all happens so fast, too fast for me to react before it’s too late to stop him.
The closet is dark and small, and the stench of cleaning supplies is thick enough to make me gag. All of this goes through my head in the second it takes Hayes to shove me up against a row of metal shelves, and I wince as pain radiates up my spine. Bottles and cans shake behind my head, but not enough to fall over.
“What did you hear?” His hand is around my throat, holding me in place. It’s too dark for me to make out his full features, but I feel his eyes on me. We’re so close our noses are almost touching. His breath is hot, coming in short bursts that make me think of an animal ready to attack. “Tell me,” he grits out through his teeth.
“Nothing… I… I didn’t hear anything,” I stutter.
“That’s a fucking lie. You were listening to us. Because you can’t mind your own fucking business.” He pulls me an inch or two away from the shelf before slamming me against it again, and this time, a handful of cans roll off and hit the floor. I’m sure my heart would do the same if it wasn’t contained inside my body. He pays the cans no attention, and all I can think is, somebody is going to hear us eventually, right? If not, then I need a plan.