I don’t get much sleep that night. I wait to see if my sister comes upstairs to maybe scold me or shot me with some poison or just go the old-fashioned route and throw me off the window.
But nothing happens.
When it’s time to wake up and go home, the best I can do is to go downstairs, whip myself a quick (and cold) breakfast and find a note penned by my sister.
I will come back in the afternoon.
We need to talk.
Those might be the four scariest words I have ever read – but what can I do at this point? I guess I should get ready to sell my things and skip town.
But I am still going to school. No matter what, I will have to face the day as a man.
I can do at least that.
I reach the school and I slip through the usual crowd outside. Nobody gives me even a glance. I spot Claire chatting with her usual clique. They are eating straight from her hands like always. I don’t try to see if I can meet her gaze now – I just pick up pace and find my seat in the classroom.
Tina is also nowhere to be found. Her spot is conspicuously empty. But I can justify that by the idea that maybe she’s out for more training.
I am still going to face her sooner or later…
Ah, and I also have done absolutely no homework, because I was too busy fucking my older sister. Can that work as an excuse?
I’d rather not push it.
When Miss Jimenez comes in, she is dressed like usual and she has a stern look in her eyes. I shiver as she reaches my desk and she sets on it a piece of paper with just one line on it.
My office.
Fuck.
The rest of the lesson goes off without a hitch, but that’s mostly because I try to make myself as small and insignificant as possible. When it’s over and she leaves for her office I wait for the classroom to empty and then I leave as well. I just don’t want people to look at me.
On my way out I get a glimpse of Claire turning a corner, followed by her hunk of a boyfriend, who luckily seems far too preoccupied with screaming at her to charge in my direction.
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Maybe there’s just a bit of Morningstar’s lingering magic protecting me.
Heh, as if.
I find Miss Jimenez ’s office door slightly open.
“Close it behind you,” she says in freezing breath, typing at her computer.
I do as she says, sitting on her chair like the last time. I was just as scared, but back then I could have faith in the ring.
“We need to talk.”
Ouch.
(or click on the sexy pic below).
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I wonder where this will lead? Surely nothing good.
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