7. Mina

Chapter seven

T he next morning thankfully goes just like the previous one, with the added bonus of my mother giving me a granola bar for breakfast. As I get close to school, I remove my braids and wonder where I’m supposed to go. I guess I should go to math class with Max, but I’m not sure I can actually walk in there without him.

There seem to be a few more students around this morning, probably because I took five minutes longer getting here today. I’m tired, and the wound on my stomach pulls with each step, so I found myself going slower to reduce the pain. Keeping my eyes down, I head inside, hoping to go unnoticed.

As I turn toward the hall where my math class is, a hand forcefully pushes my bad shoulder, backing me into a locker and pinning me in place. My heart hammers in my chest as I look up and see the grinning face of Brad. Oh God... him again? He leers at me and licks his lips as he steps in close, his body basically holding mine against the lockers. My hands shoot up to his chest to push him back, but he’s huge compared to me and I’m unable to move him even an inch.

“Hey babe, how’s my girl doing?” I keep my eyes focused on my fingers pushing at his chest. He uses one of his hands to tilt my chin up so I have to look at him and whatever he sees in my eyes has his grin growing into a full-blown smile. My breath starts coming in short pants as I try to catch my breath, I don’t like being this close to him, I don’t want to be anywhere near him, but as I try to push harder, he just chuckles like my attempt to escape amuses him.

“Come on, babe, tell me what you want me to do.” He has me pegged, I think he knows I can’t speak to verbally protest his advances. I shake my head rapidly while still trying to push him off me.

“Aww, you’re shy, huh? Well, don’t worry. I know what you need and I’m here to make everything better now. Come on, let’s go to the caff, and I’ll let you sit on my lap.” Is that supposed to be some sort of privilege? His hands, which are on my shoulders, start to curl around them, peeling me off the locker. I shake my head faster, and my breathing starts to pick up even quicker. I feel a panic attack coming on and have no space to deal with it here.

My eyes widen when a hand reaches over his shoulder and grabs his wrist, yanking it backward and turning him to face a fuming Jasper, who is now standing beside him, his face a mask of fury and anger. Hoping he’s here to help me, I let out a breath of relief.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, grabbing her like that? It’s fucking clear she’s telling you no, so back off, and if I see you so much as talk to her again, my fist is going to have a conversation with your face!” Jasper yells, practically baring his teeth in anger.

Brad looks at him with frustration and agitation. “Dude, calm down, she’s my girlfriend. And she likes it a little rough.” Brad turns his face to me with a smirk. My eyes widen in fear, how was I supposed to tell Jasper that he’s lying?

“Really, Brad? She said no yesterday. You think that trick is going to work any better today?” Jasper asks, glaring daggers at Brad .

“Fuck off, this doesn’t concern you. After I met her, I knew we’d be great together. I told her she’s my girl, and she agreed.” He lies so easily it scares me, and the smile he gives me terrifies me. I shake my head, looking at Jasper with panic. Oh God, is he going to believe him?

Jasper’s eyes bore into mine and I beg him to understand. I have no idea what he’s thinking, and I pray to whatever god is out there that he doesn’t believe Brad.

He turns to Brad as he calmly asks, “if she’s your girlfriend, tell me, what’s her name?” My heart leaps up to my throat. He doesn’t know it… does he?

Brad’s mouth opens, then he freezes, and I can literally see him trying to remember if he knows it. His hand, still on my shoulder, loosens, so I take my chance and pull myself away from him and fly toward Jasper. He opens his arms for me, and I plaster myself to his side, gripping his white dress shirt tightly while he curls one arm gently around my upper shoulders.

Brad scowls at me and clenches his fists. Jasper and him seem to have a silent stare off before Jasper turns me away, and we start walking down the hall. “I’m sorry, Angel. Are you okay?” I nod my head against his side. He softly squeezes my shoulder in an act of reassurance.

I’m not sure why I’m okay with Jasper touching me, but not Brad. Brad just feels… wrong. Jasper and Max, they feel good, feel right, and they smell amazing. Somehow I know they’re not going to hurt me. At least, I hope they won’t. Hope. There’s that damn word again. As soon as I realize I have it, it crushes me down with the expectation of it being ripped from me again. I’ll just have to be careful with these two and not put all my hope in them .

I need my own plan to get away from my mother. In fact... Why didn’t I just run away yesterday after I left the house? I’d always been locked inside before, and now I actually have the chance to run away from her, and I have barely considered it. Where would I go? I know nothing about the world. I have no idea how to get a job or where to go or live. And without the ability to speak, I imagine it will be near impossible to get hired or find a place to live.

No, I would need to do a lot of research before I could leave that house. Besides, I had no proof that I am twenty-one, if my mother has forged documents claiming I’m a minor, I’d be deemed a runaway and she’d send the cops to come find me and drag me back. She’s told me that multiple times. She said if I try to run away, the cops will know I have a demon in me, and will beat me and bring me back. I don’t want to risk that. I know my family’s brand of punishment, but who knows how badly the cops would hurt me? My mother told me a few things that they do to runaways, and I’m not ready to lose a toe or be branded with an iron rod just yet.

I startle as I hear a bang and see Jasper drop our bags on the floor by a table in the cafeteria. Huh. I don’t even remember walking in here.

“Sit, Angel,” he says gently, pointing at the bench seat. I sit down and stare at the empty table in front of me. “Are you okay?” I nod softly. “Look at me, please?” I lift my gaze to him.

“Hey. Don’t look like that. What’s wrong? Is it Brad?” I shake my head once. He studies my face, then asks, “can I give you a hug?” I freeze at the question. A hug? I haven’t had a hug since my dad was around. My eyes start to tear up and I try to blink away the tears. What would it feel like to hug someone again? Someone like Jasper? When he saved me from Brad a few minutes ago, it sort of felt like a hug, and I really liked that. A tear escapes and rolls down my cheek and I quickly wipe it away as I nod.

“Oh, Angel...” Jasper groans like he’s in pain when he sees my face and he gently wraps his large arms around me, pulling me against his chest. Luckily, he isn’t putting much pressure on my arm, so it doesn’t hurt too much. I rest my cheek against his chest and take a few deep breaths as I melt against him. One of his hands softly rubs my back and I feel him rest his cheek on the top of my head. I hope this hug never ends. Could I keep him?

“I don’t know what’s going on in your head or what has you upset, but just know I will help you in any way I can, alright?” I nod against his chest. I have my hands tucked in front of me, grasping his white dress shirt as I let a few more tears silently roll down my cheeks.

“What happened? Is she okay? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” I hear Max and the bench shakes as he sits down behind me. He places his hand on the back of my shoulder, rubbing softly.

“She had a run-in with Brad in the hall,” Jasper tells him quietly.

“What the fuck? Did he touch her?” Jasper must nod because Max swears. “Fuck. I told him if he touched her again, I’d beat his ass.”

“I think he got the idea this time, but let’s keep a close eye on her for a while.” I start to pull back from Jasper now my tears have stopped, and I’m becoming highly aware that we’re in the cafeteria, surrounded by other students. As I turn my face to Max, he smiles at me and hands me a tissue. I give him a soft smile and use it to wipe my face.

“Alright, are you coming to class with me, Sweetheart?” Max stands up, offering me his hand. I nod and attempt to pick up my bag, but he slings it over his shoulder, giving me a wink as he drags me to class, waving goodbye to Jasper .

Math class starts like yesterday, with Mrs. Pinkins teaching about calculus while I focus on coloring in my book. Today, it’s a tiger, and I’ve decided to make it purple. The repetitive motion of coloring helps settle my nerves from the encounter with Brad. Being careful not to draw attention to myself, I keep my head down, pretending to be lost in the swirls of my crayons, but my mind races.

I’m startled when a granola bar appears in front of me. I look up to Max in question and he just gives me a small smile and turns back to the lesson. I already had breakfast this morning, the granola bar on my way to school, but the thought of another one has my stomach rumbling.

As quietly as I can, I unwrap it and take small bites, trying not to moan at the sweet taste. When I finish, I start coloring again.

After a while, I can sense Max’s eyes on me. He’s watching again, leaning a little closer. I don’t think he’s figured me out yet, but his curiosity makes me anxious. What will happen if he does? What if they all do? I keep my hand steady as I work a pattern along the tiger’s tail, a series of numbers that flow naturally in my head. They aren’t random, but I doubt anyone would understand their purpose.

Mrs. Pinkins asks the class, “who has the answer to the first question on the board?”

As if on autopilot, I write negative-seven softly in the swirling pattern just before a girl answers, “seven?”

“Close, but not quite right,” Mrs. Pinkins corrects. “It’s negative seven.”

I shift my focus back to my tiger, shading in the paws, but the next question pulls me in again.

“Who has the answer to question two? ”

I calculate quickly in my head, and my hand moves almost without thinking, writing 2886 . I hear Mrs. Pinkins call on a male student this time.

“2,886?” he says tentatively.

“Yes! Good job, that was a difficult one,” she praises.

I stare at the number I wrote before he said it and can feel a hint of a smile on my lips at getting it right.

I hear a soft gasp from Max, and when I risk a glance at him, he’s looking at me, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Mina?” he whispers softly, leaning closer. Reluctantly, I look up, meeting his gaze. “You know how to do this math?” he asks, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

My hand tightens around the crayon as my pulse quickens. What do I do now?

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