6. P
6
P
A warmth floods my veins, tingling through my limbs as my eyelids pinch and light flickers through. With a twitch in my finger and a shiver down my spine, I startle awake. My eyes are wide, feasting on the new surroundings I find myself in, but it offers nothing in the way of an answer.
We're moving. A coach, I presume. I'm fastened into my seat as if I did it myself, along with the other students who were present in the class with Mrs. Stephens before the world went dark.
Pressed against the window, I look to my left to see S groggily coming to, a frown pinching her eyebrows together as she glances around our new confines. Turning away from her, I focus on everything I can, from the air conditioning blowing above, to the murmured whispers coming from farther down the bus, and the rumble of the engine beneath us, but none of it tells me where we are or where we’re going.
A sharp inhale to my left startles me, and I turn to see S’s boyfriend sitting across the aisle with T beside him, but I quickly dart my attention away from them. They look just as confused as I feel.
My mind begins to race a mile a minute as panic kicks in and I scramble, patting at my chest and legs until I stuff my hand into my blazer pocket and find the familiar piece of metal that I'm searching for. Straining my fist around the coin, I press it into my palm tighter than ever, the imprint burning into my soul.
I don’t care where we go as long as I have this with me.
Taking a deep breath, I turn my attention to the window, hoping to find something outside that may help me understand what’s going on, but I have no idea where we are. Not a single clue. The road moves under us and there's no one else in sight as the sun looks ready to set in the distance.
Pinching the bridge of my nose as I take another measured breath, I turn back to the inside of the bus, hoping a second glance around the space may offer me something new, but it seems everyone else is seeking the same information. We’re all glancing around and not one of us has an answer.
It’s weird, though. Everyone is so focused on observing their surroundings, no one’s actually causing a scene. There’s no shouting, no screaming, no raging. Just a sense of bewilderment that grows with every set of eyes that opens.
Brushing a loose curl back out of my face, I clear my throat just as S speaks.
“What's going on, P?” she asks, and my lips twist. Staring into her eyes, I find the familiar storm of panic I’ve seen in my own reflection countless times.
My lips twist. I don't even know what to say. Nervously rubbing them together, I shrug. “I don't know, S,” I admit, hating the taste of it on my tongue. I don’t think I’ve ever acknowledged a lack of insight before, but there’s no use lying.
I guess there’s a first time for everything.
S nods, the uncertainty and anxiety obvious in the rigid set of her shoulders and ticking of her jaw in time to my own.
Easing my hold on my coin, I lace my fingers together in my lap and focus on the bracelets that cradle my wrists. I don't remember a time when they weren't there. They've been welded in place for as long as I can remember, and along with the coin, they feel like a piece of…home. I don't know why, there's just something about them that feels like a part of me.
“Are you okay, P?” T asks, and I internally recoil at his intrusion to my thoughts. I try my best to suppress the snark and hold back the eye roll threatening to take over as I manage a grumble.
“I’m fine.”
I don’t bother to look in his direction as a hand curls around my upper arm. I know it’s S, probably with a disapproving look on her face, but when I peer at her out of the corner of my eye, it's a soft smile of comfort that I receive instead.
Weird.
“So, supernatural, huh?” S’s boyfriend, B, says with his eyebrows raised. They’re so high, they almost touch his hairline.
I shrug. “It doesn't seem possible.” The words fall flat. There’s no wonder, no curiosity, no anything. Right now, I need to figure out what’s going on instead of believing such dramatics from a woman who has done nothing but cause mayhem in my life.
T scoffs from the other side of B, forcing himself back into the conversation once again. “It looks pretty possible to me,” he states all matter of factly, and this time I can’t hide the eye roll.
“For Mrs. Stephens, sure, but us…” My words trail off as I shake my head.
“She’s right, wouldn't we know something like that by now?” S asks, and I internally thank her for seeing the same level of sense as I do.
If we thought we were in the midst of the unknown before, that is nothing compared to what we face now. The uncertainty is scary, and the feeling of being lost in a deep, dark forest without a ray of sunlight feels very daunting.
As I glance back out the window, all I can think is that the concrete is gone, the plain halls and four walls are gone, and all that lies before us are rolling hills, winding roads, and an uncertain future.
I don’t know what’s more daunting: the surety that Mrs. Stephens was going to comprise the entirety of my memories of my time on this planet, or the promise of an unknown future stretching before me like a great, dark cave with no end in sight.
“I’m scared, P,” S murmurs, leaning into me as she whispers.
“We’re going to be fine,” I promise, attempting to comfort her with a small squeeze in return. I don’t think we've ever been this close before, and I’m not usually the consoling type, but it looks like she needs it. There's a part of me that understands that she needs some form of comfort, I guess we all do, but the last thing I want is for anyone to start overreacting and making this situation spiral into something bigger.
We have to remain level headed and focused, otherwise we're never going to be able to help ourselves.
I gasp as I consider my own thoughts.
Was that…hope?
No.
I wipe a hand down my face, hiding my scoff. Definitely not hope. Not from me— never from me.
“It doesn't feel like it's gonna be fine, P,” S murmurs, resting her cheek on my shoulder.
“I know it doesn’t,” I murmur in an attempt to soothe her. “But we will be. We have to be,” I insist, the positive words foreign on my tongue.
B leans across the aisle, running his hand over her thigh in comfort as he tries to encourage her too. “We’ve made it this far.”
S scoffs, bolting upright in her seat as she turns to glare at him.
“That’s because they were protecting us,” she bites as I gape at her.
Her outburst is a surprise, one that I would expect from myself more than her, but it seems there’s a side of this girl that we haven’t seen yet—a side that might actually be interesting.
She’s right, though. They were protecting us. Not for us, but for them . The buyers. But the reality is, we have no recollection of our time before Florentine’s. Whatever we’re rolling into, we don’t have the upper hand. Not even a little.
Pursing my lips, I face the window as the murmurs grow louder, running up and down the bus. I go to stand, but my butt is practically welded to the seat. Even though I can move freely while I’m seated, that’s about all the freedom I have. As the ability to stand seems to fail me, I shift from side to side, trying to see what's going on, but I come up just as empty as ever, until I hear someone shouting from the front of the bus.
“The sign. Look at the sign!”
I turn to the window so fast that I almost snap my neck, but it’s worth it when a giant wooden carved sign comes into view a moment later. The engraved words leave a sinking feeling in my gut.
Trinity Falls Academy.
Fuck.
We're going from one hell hole to another?
I didn't sign up for this.
“What is that? Why are we here?” S asks, her eyes frantic as her breaths meld into short pants. Her gaze fixes on me, but all I can do is shrug as my mouth sets into a thin line. I’m in the same position as she is, I don’t have a single clue.
Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose again for good measure. It works wonders on making me focus instead of letting the anger that coils through my chest burst free. I jolt when the bus seems to roll over a bump in the road, looking up just in time to see us pass through a set of wrought iron gates.
As we turn the bend, my breathing accelerates, matching S’s as a tall, Gothic-style building comes into view; turrets, pointed roofs, arched windows, and a sense of dread greets us.
Subconsciously, my hand finds its way to S’s, tightening around hers, searching for a sense of support. I can't decide if it's more for her or for me. I guess I can, but the denial is real.
Turning to look into her wide eyes, I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I guess we’re about to find out.”