9. Cin
Cin
My dorm room door was covered in what appeared to be fake bloody tampons when I got back from studying in the library for the better part of the evening. Which is where I escaped to after Talon’s declaration in the dining hall, and I didn’t even get to finish my grilled cheese.
I rolled my eyes at the ridiculous idea that I would be the least bit offended by used tampons, and unlocked my door. Even if they could have pulled off real blood, it still wouldn’t have phased me like they wanted it to.
I’m also a woman, with an active period, so eh . Tampons don’t scare me.
Cleaning it up would be pointless, gravity will do the job and the hall sweeping robot will sweep them up as if they never existed, plus the fake blood made a pattern on the door, and honestly it was kind of cool.
Getting the rest of my essays done is harder than I thought it would be, especially since I have to work with Cody on our Lit project that qualifies for twenty-five percent of our grade and I couldn’t find him anywhere after lunch.
Literature is the only class I’m not completely caught up, or finished with. Thanks to Cody.
My phone rings with an incoming call, and I know it’s Mama without looking.
“Hi Mama,” I pick up.
“Muffin!” she says, and it sounds like she’s in a car, “how was the first day?”
“Good.”
“That’s all you’ve got for your Mama? Good,” she complains.
I laugh, “it was good. I reconnected with Cody, and made an enemy, so I’m doing wonderful. How is your assignment going?”
“Cody?” Her motherly instincts kick in, just as I knew they would, “Cody Platts?”
“Yes.”
I can hear her teeth grinding through the phone, she’s not his biggest fan. Understandably so, she thinks he’s bad news, but she also never got to know him like I did. His parents aren’t what one would call ‘normal’.
They’ve had their fair share of incidents in the news, and most of it for alleged fraud. As far as I know, neither of his parents have ever been convicted. I don’t know if it’s money or fame, but nothing the law has tried to stick to them has well… stuck.
“I thought he was in Japan with his family,” she says, but it doesn’t sound like she’s speaking to me. More like she’s talking to herself.
“They were in China, and he’s been back in the states for about a year, isn’t that funny?”
“Yeah,” she says, and I can tell the shift in her words; practically seeing the thoughts spinning in her brain. She’s in FBI mode and is going to dig up anything she can on him, and his parents, possibly even his sister, to make sure I’m safe . That will be her defense.
“Mom, it’s fine, we have a project to do together,” I tell her in hopes that she won’t completely freak out and do something like get him expelled.
“Okay, Muffin.”
“Mom?”
She sighs and says, “I love you Muffin, I have to go.”
I don’t even get ‘bye’ out by the time she closes out the call, which is weird. Because she always waits for me to say that I love her. Plus she didn’t even ask about the whole enemy comment.
Cody isn’t that bad, and she’ll find out soon enough when I get my car privileges and can have them meet. After one conversation, she’ll like him, I know she will.
The next morning I hear a grinding noise at my door, and it smells like something’s burning. Throwing the covers off my bed, I walk to the door because I know they aren’t doing construction in our building.
So why the fuck do I hear banging metal and smell something burning? Shit! Going for the handle, I grip the knob and twist, but the door won’t move. I can hear giggles and muffled words on the other side as I pull as hard as I can on the knob.
But the door doesn’t move, not even an inch.
What the hell is going on? Footsteps and gasps trickle through the bottom gap, and their shadows float away.
I look out the peephole or try to, but it’s blocked by red, and I groan. Leaning back against the door I push, putting all of my strength into my legs and straining against the floor.
The wood doesn’t move, doesn’t even flex against the door jam and I start to panic. When booted feet stomp down the hall and a voice whispers through the crack.
“It’s welded,” I hear who I think has to be Talon.
That mother fucker. He did not just weld my door shut.
“What the fuck Tal?” Someone else growls.
That’s Toby, it has to be, he’s the only other guy I’ve seen around the girls dorm, and possibly the only person who’d dare speak to the almighty himself that way.
“Good morning, Spice,” Talon mocks, he must have heard me pulling on the door. “Good luck getting to class today.”
Fuck. Me.
If I don’t attend class and don’t have a valid reason for skipping, that will count against me, and I won’t get my car privileges. How convenient that he decides to fuck with me on the last day of my probation.
“You welded my door shut?” I voice through the wood, hoping to sound nonchalant.
“I hope you have a fantastic day, Spice. I know I will.”
I can hear Talon’s footsteps as he walks away, and Gemma’s voice filters through, “what are we going to do?”
Toby doesn’t say anything, or rather, my ears refuse to hear anything after what she said.
Sliding down the door to sit on my ass, I laugh. I actually fucking laugh, because what the FUCK? What kind of people are these assholes? As if the prospect of tampons coating my door wasn’t enough. Now I’m quite literally locked in my room.
I hope Talon had to remove them to get to my door, that gives me a sense of sick satisfaction and I smile, looking up. The window is across from me, inviting and free of weldings. I’m on the second floor, how hard could it be to scale down the house?
Pulling myself up and walking to the window, I throw the locks and lift the pane. It’s wooden and creaks and cracks as I shove it open.
The painters clearly painted over the seal because chunks of dried paint stick to the frame and come away from the sill. I shrug and continue on; I’ll rescue my damn self.
When I can get my fingers through the bottom, I haul it all the way open and look down.
Good news, there’s nothing but dead grass below. Bad news, there’s nothing but dead grass below. If I fell, I’d probably break my ankle, roll it at best, but if I could leverage my weight on something, I might be able to get down.
But first, I need to get dressed and do my hair. If I’m scaling a wall, I’m gonna do it in style, as a big fuck you to Talon.
The first thing I do is set about making my morning hot chocolate. It’s still a little chilly here and I hate coffee.
Once the water and cocoa are combined I leave it to set while I get dressed. The school has a dress code, but fortunately no costume. So I opt for faux leather pants and a long band tee. Young Decay is a band I found randomly while listening on a streaming app.
Their music just… speaks to me.
So I promptly bought every item of merch they have. Being an indie band is hard. Giving them my money is easy.
Laying the outfit out on my bed, I pair it with accessories. Everyone knows that’s what makes the look, a look. Searching through my jewelry I find a thin gold chain with a simple charm of a peony and clasp it around my neck.
Black floral studs go in my bottom lobes, and the rest I simply don’t change. They remain in their spots, two golden hoops through my cartilage, a jeweled bar through my conch, and on the other side my tragus, rook, and daith are all filled with the golden material.
When I’m satisfied with jewelry, I throw on my clothes and assess my deep chestnut hair. The vanity I brought with me fits perfectly on the little dresser meant for school work, and I use some gel to tame my sections.
Braiding my hair is quick and simple, though my baby hairs will disagree. I brush those down, using a comb to turn them into wisps that stay put.
My Latine blood comes from my father, though I’ve never met him, and Mama doesn’t really talk about him. I love my Latina features, regardless of knowing him. My eyes are dark, and I rim them in black, giving them an elongated look that makes me feel like I can take on the world.
Patting on some finishing powder, I take a moment to breathe. Climbing from my two story window won’t be easy. However, I wish it were.
Pulling the sheets issued to my room from the back of my closet, I rip them in two, tying them together tight enough that they won’t break with my weight. I wrap one loop around the bottom of my bed, taking a deep breath and lifting the corner to secure it and carefully dropping the wooden leg back down to the floor.
I place my body into the other side, like a sling meant to carry a baby. If I’m going out the window I need a fail safe, and this is the best I’ve got.
Especially since I know whatever students are out will see me scaling the building. Being on the front side of the dorms isn’t exactly ideal in this situation.
Throwing my bag out of the window, I take a deep breath and carefully put one leg over the sill, making sure the sheet is exactly where I need it. After securing the knots, I find a footing in the slats on the exterior and lift my other leg over the window casing.
With both of my legs out and secure on the tiny ledge, I slowly lean out, allowing the sheet to carry a bit of my weight. It isn’t perfect, but slowly I creep down the siding. Shuffling one foot further and further toward the ground.
“Oh shit!”
“What the fuck is she doing?”
“Someone call Mr. Finnighan!”
I ignore the shouts and snickers as my feet hit the first story window casing. I could jump now, my boots would take most of the hit, and I’d be okay.
But the sheets still have a little slack, so I sit up in them further and propel down. My boots hit the middle of the window on each side and the sheet reaches its end.
Leaning forward and jumping out of the sling of sheets is easier than I thought. My boots hit the grass and pine needles and I pick up my bag.
Shuffling around in my bag to find my scissors, I cut the bed sheet and pull it through one side. The knot I tied appears through the window and the rest of the fabric falls behind. Can’t give anyone a reason to climb into my room.
I just hope it doesn’t rain today. That would be… messy.
“She looks just fine to me,” I hear Fish Boy’s voice, “worried for nothing, brother.”
I ignore the looks from other students and gather all my stuff. I can donate the sheets to the art program, surely they’d have use for them.
Placing the scissors back in my bag carefully so they don’t cut the interior lining, I pluck out my phone and dial my mom. I don’t know shit about welding, and I’ll need to get back in my room eventually.
I doubt the prick that put the bar across my door will be inclined to remove it.
“Muffin, can I call you back?” She answers the phone on the first ring, like always.
“I just need Griffin’s assistance, would you send him here please?”
“Why?” Her hackles are fluffed, I can tell by the immediate reaction and lift in her voice, “what’s going on?”
“Nothing I can’t handle, Mama. Just send him please, with some tools,” I amend.
“We’ll talk about this later,” she warns and I sigh, knowing good and damn well she won’t stop until we talk about it.
“Okay, I love you.”
“I love you too, he’ll be there soon.”
I turn, finding half of the student body watching me and Talon. Their eyes are full of hope, faces ready to witness a fight. But I refuse to give them one, instead I smile and waltz up to where he stands, phone still in one hand.
“You’ll find, I’m not the giving up type,” I push past him, making sure to step on his foot with my Docs. He doesn’t react, but I can tell by the heat on my neck that whatever this is, has only just begun.
Game on Fishy Fishy.