47. Sable
SABLE
Every Soren day after that first one, I run to the door expecting to find it locked, but it’s not.
Soren makes sure to let me free every Thursday morning, and I’m not stupid enough to let the opportunity slip through my fingers.
The other guys have all been on edge since the classroom interruption, when Soren saved the day, except for Lex.
He’s been more and more distracted lately, but his collar still sits around my neck.
The argument I had with Parker hasn’t been mentioned, but I fuck him when he wants.
Orion is clearly pissed at me too, but he’s different about showing his displeasure.
He’s stopped playing with me in front of people, and him not showing me off has been a surprisingly effective punishment.
Hadrian isn’t quite the ally I thought he would be, but he’s better than the rest, except Soren.
He’s the one I can’t stop thinking about and the only one who never comes to see me.
It’s been a few weeks since I punched Liliana, and I haven’t seen her since to judge the damage I did.
I’m sure her surgeon will fix it before anyone sees.
I’m glad I could at least cost her a little time and money, given I wasn’t worth one once I didn’t have the other.
This morning is no different, and I’m careful, watching where I go as I leave my room so I don’t bump into one of my keepers.
I’m always afraid I’m living through my last day of freedom because I’m sure if they knew what was happening, they would stop it. They don’t enjoy my happiness.
There isn’t a map of this place online, and even if there were, I’m sure it wouldn’t be real, just like the pictures and offered course catalog.
I wouldn’t be surprised if they taught bloodletting instead of statistics.
I’ve hardly seen enough of the school to know where the administrative offices or anything are, but I’ve been doing my best to create my own map.
Is part of the Bellthorn mystique keeping your students so hopelessly focused on which direction they’re going, they don’t have time to mess around?
Well, fuck them, because I’m the only student at Bellthorn with nothing to do but take dick.
I unfold my secret map and look it over as I travel to a new hall.
There are so many places here, I know I won’t find them all even if I stayed for a doctorate.
I make a few marks and decide to watch a video later on how to actually make maps because this is starting to look insane.
Just as I make a tick, marking another stairwell, awareness tingles the back of my neck.
I look over my shoulder, feeling that someone is watching me.
God, that’s stupid. Someone is always watching me. I try to calm myself down, but these days alone have been oddly inconspicuous. This place is so creepy, and it’s finally getting to me, that’s all.
As I approach the door to the stairwell, I’m sure I hear footsteps behind me, but I look and find nothing.
The sensation of eyes sliding over me fades the moment I step inside.
The comparatively small tunnel seems more easily defensible.
Defending myself from what I don’t know.
But everything is a little bit creepy and stupid when I’m dressed as the slutty interpretation of Wednesday Addams.
It takes me a full minute to decide whether to go up or down.
This castle is full of secrets, and I still don’t know enough to make a smart decision.
It’s sad to think that if I wanted to run away right now, I wouldn’t have the first clue how to do it.
There’s been so much sex and insanity since I’ve been here that I haven’t had the time to plan a way out.
I’m not rich anymore, so I can’t afford to be this dumb.
Voices cut through my thoughts, and I realize the next floor is busy, so instead of stepping in, I keep going up, not in the mood for confrontations.
When I reach the top of the stairs and the end of my options, I glance at my map.
Realizing that I never explored this part of the castle, I decide to check out the floor.
The door swings open, and the air up here is different from the rest of the school, fresher and lighter, and I find myself catching my breath when I didn’t realize it was short.
Windows line the hall, and a few of them are open.
Oh my god, fresh air. It’s been weeks since I offended Parker, and he stopped taking me running.
I frantically soak up the oxygen and the faraway and cloud-strained rays of light.
Just how far into this mountain does the university go?
Absolutely no one is around, and I nearly sob at the mock sensation of freedom as I walk over to one of the windows and touch the glass, and feel the wind on my face.
I can’t see anything from here that would make you think this is a university; the view reveals a little bit of a stone wall and the wide expanse of the mountain.
Hills and valleys stretch far away in the distance, and I realize just how high up I must be to be seeing all of this.
I keep walking down the hall, looking out the old glass windows until I can see the front gate.
I eventually switch from staring out the windows to searching the classrooms. There are a few labs and lecture halls, a lot of the doors are locked, and I move on quickly rather than risk disturbing someone inside.
In one room, I find an abandoned laboratory.
Layers of dust cover antiquated machinery.
If they have so much money, why don’t they do something with this unused space?
I sneeze a couple of times and then move along until I find another unlocked door.
Boxes and boxes line the shelves covering the walls as I sink deeper into some long-abandoned section of the school.
Wooden desks make the small room look even smaller.
A pile of folded newspapers, still secured on a tie, catches my attention.
When I turn the bundle, I’m surprised to find the Bellthorn Gazette .
“Why would a place so full of secrets have a school paper?” But before the question is even out of my mouth, I already know that’s the reason this series of rooms with its desks and pin boards was closed and forgotten.
Curiosity moves me, and I struggle to undo the tie, but once I do, I’m excited to read what seems to be the last edition of the Bellthorn Gazette .
Dust rises as I open the newspaper. My eyes scan for some scandal, but I don’t find anything remotely interesting.
It’s all pageantry and name-dropping. Time hasn’t been kind to the ink.
The print is uneven, and many letters have nearly faded entirely.
Trying to read it makes me dizzy. I’m about to put the whole thing down and move on when I find a familiar face staring back at me.
Blond hair, blue eyes, the same mouth and nose as my own.
That’s my mom. My brow furrows. What the hell would my mom’s picture be doing here?
My dad went to Bellthorn, obviously, that’s why he was always so passionate that I wouldn’t, but my mother never had anything to do with the place.
So why is her picture in the newspaper? a voice in the back of my head asks.
She’s smiling at the camera with two friends by her side.
If I’m unsure that’s really my mom, her name in block letters hasn’t faded.
Meredith Colefax. There’s nothing helpful in the article to explain the betrayal, but I’m not sure what I’m looking for here either.
An excuse? She’s dead, and I can’t even ask her what the hell is going on, or why she lied to me.
“She came this way. I’m sure of it,” voices from out in the hall catch my attention. I felt someone watching me, but I convinced myself I was crazy. Turns out, the only thing crazier than me is this goddamn school.
My hands work before I can stop myself, and I rip the paper, taking the photo and stuffing it in my pocket, before making my way to the back to hide behind some file cabinets, but instead find a door to an adjoining room.
“I don’t see her anywhere,” a familiar voice replies.
I recognize Liliana at once. My hand twinges from the bruise that still hasn’t entirely healed, and nerves run up and down my spine.
There can’t be any good reason she’s looking for me.
That really was an expensive nose job. With a prayer under my breath, I try the next door, breathing in relief when I find it open.
As I creep inside, I almost blow my cover and trip on the dozen boxes lining the floor.
My hands shoot out, catching myself on a teacher’s desk at the last moment.
Old newspapers line the walls, and every inch of available floor space is covered in cabinets and boxes. This must be the newsroom.
There’s nowhere to hide, so I press myself as close to a cabinet as I can, trying to blend in and listen.
My ears strain, and I hold my breath not to make a sound.
There’s definitely more than two people walking toward me.
Shit. My eyes squeeze shut when I hear them checking next door and murmuring to one another.
They try the door behind me, but I was smart enough to lock it.
For a minute, I think I’m safe. They grumble before turning around, and though it’s quiet for a few minutes, I don’t dare to move.
Right as I’m thinking it might be all clear, a doorknob facing the hall turns.
My eyes stick to the top lock, and I beg for it to be closed.
But it’s not.
Light floods the room as one of them flips a switch. A cruel smile twists the face of a girl I’ve never seen before. Red curls surround a face filled with malicious glee. My heart races, knowing that even though we’re strangers, she’s excited to hurt me, and I’ve boxed myself into a corner.
“She’s here!” she tells them, kicking the door completely open.
My heart imprints itself onto my ribs as Arabella walks through the door. Although I punched Liliana in the face, her glare toward me is a hundred times more murderous, and she’s the one carrying a five-gallon bucket of water.