9. Mina
Mina
“Hey Maxy!” A high-pitched, female voice cuts through the cafeteria noise, pulling my attention to the girl standing beside Max, where the three of us are seated.
I turn to see her—a stunning girl, slim in all the places I’m not, with sleek blond hair that falls perfectly to her shoulders.
“Tiffany, I told you I don’t like that name. It’s Max, not Maxy, not baby, and definitely not honey.” Max’s tone drips with irritation, and I bite back a small smile behind my sandwich. He really doesn’t like her.
When we got here, the boys pulled food out of their bags and placed half a sandwich in front of me.
I tried to give it back, but they wouldn’t hear of it.
So I reluctantly started eating. The sandwich had some sort of meat on it, cucumbers, lettuce, cheese and some sort of white sauce, and was the most delicious one I’d ever had.
Eating it wasn’t a hardship. I was glad they weren’t trying to feed me as much as they did yesterday, the last thing I wanted was to vomit in front of a cafeteria full of students.
Tiffany places a hand on Max’s shoulder, making my hackles rise in anger, and speaks again. “Oh, you’re so funny, Max! That’s why we get along so well—we have such a similar sense of humor. You’re coming to the party on Friday, right? I thought you could give me a lift?”
Oh god, this girl. My hands tighten on my sandwich.
I want to rip her hand off his shoulder and punch her in the face.
Max is my friend, and I don’t want him to be friends with her.
Is that weird? He must have other friends, but the thought of him being with other girls makes my blood boil. Get a grip, girl, he’s not yours!
“Sorry, Tiffany, I don’t think so. If I do go, it’ll be with Jasper and Mina, not you,” Max says bluntly, gesturing toward us.
Oh no, why did he say my name? My eyes widen in fear when her sharp gaze lands on me, and her scowl deepens before she smooths it out into a fake smile. She reminds me of my mother, the way she can change her expression so seamlessly.
“Oh, how cute! Is she your sister? I didn’t know she goes here, too!” Her syrupy tone grates on me, and I bite into my sandwich, chewing slowly to avoid glaring at her.
“No, she’s a new student. She started this week,” Jasper replies with a hint of agitation in his voice. Good, he doesn’t like her either.
A glance at Tiffany and see when a lightbulb seems to go off in her head. “Ohhhh… she’s the mute girl,” she says, her voice laced with condescension.
I stiffen. Was there a double meaning in her words?
“That’s so sweet of you guys to befriend someone who’s… so special.”
Is that how everyone sees me? Some charity case student who needs help and pity?
I don’t want pity. Is that how Jasper and Max see me?
I want them to like me because of who I am.
But how can they get to know me if I can’t talk?
My stomach churns and I set the last bit of my sandwich down on the table and stare at it in worry.
“Tiffany, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Max snaps, his anger sharp and immediate. “Do not belittle her like that again. Just because she doesn’t talk doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with her.”
His frustration surprises me.
“You could take a note from her book and learn to talk less yourself,” Jasper adds coolly.
“Whatever. You’ll get bored of her silence soon enough. See you later, boys.” Tiffany gives a sultry wave and saunters off like their words have no effect on her.
But her parting words linger. Is she right? Will they get bored of me because I can’t talk to them? I sneak a glance at Jasper and find him already watching me.
“Not gonna happen, Angel,” Jasper says softly. “You could never speak a word, and we’d never grow bored of you.”
His smile is kind, but I’m not sure if I believe him. He doesn’t know anything about me.
The boys exchange a look that seems a little nervous. What could they possibly have to be nervous about?
“We were wondering…” Jasper starts, “do you want to come over and hang out with us after school? We could work through some homework if you’d like—or play a game or watch a movie?”
He seems nervous about my answer, which seems strange to me.
I can’t imagine anyone turning him down.
I would love to hang out with them—it’s like something out of the movies.
We’d become best friends, hanging out every day and laughing at inside jokes.
But reality crashes in, and I almost jump back, shaking my head fast. My mother will be expecting me home.
“That’s okay, maybe tomorrow? Or another day…” Max offers quickly, trying to soften the rejection.
I shrug, avoiding their eyes.
“Angel, do you have a cell phone? So we can call or text you tonight?” Jasper asks.
I shake my head.
“We’ll have to fix that,” Max mumbles, almost too low for me to hear. I’m not sure what he means by that. My mother will never allow me to have a phone.
The rest of lunch passes quickly. I realize I only have a few more minutes before my third period art class that I haven’t made it to yet, and need to use the bathroom.
I stand and grab my bag. Max follows, standing with me. “Ready for class, Sweetheart?” he asks with a smile.
I shake my head, unsure how to tell him I need the bathroom. I really don’t want to mime that. He studies me as I shift slightly from foot to foot.
“You want to go somewhere…” he muses aloud, piecing it together.
His eyebrows shoot up in realization as Jasper chuckles behind me. “Ah, yes, let’s take a bathroom break before class, shall we?”
Max takes my hand, and I nod gratefully. The three of us stop outside the bathrooms, as Jasper says, “we’ll wait for you here.” Max releases my hand, and I step into the women’s restroom.
As I finish up in a stall, I hear two girls talking at the counter.
“Did you hear Jack is back in school this week?” one girl asks.
“No way! His sister’s only been gone for two weeks! I’d have used that excuse to stay home the rest of the semester,” the other replies.
“Maybe he didn’t want to be at home anymore. Maybe he needed the distraction?”
“Yeah, I’m sure it’s hard to get the image of your sister’s raped and murdered body out of your head.”
What the hell? Raped and murdered?
“Do you think it’s related to the girl that was found in the woods a few months ago?”
“The cops on the news said they weren’t related, but what are the chances? There’s never been any murders here, and now we have two in the same year.” Great. Now I have something else to worry about.
Their conversation shifts to Friday’s party as they leave the bathroom.
As I finish up, washing my hands, I wonder if I really want to escape my house, being stuck in the basement all the time. At least I knew what to expect there. This world feels like it’s spiraling into chaos, and I haven’t even finished my first week.
It took me three days, but I finally make it to my art class.
It’s a big room, more like an actual art studio, with easels arranged haphazardly all over the place.
The twins introduce me to the teacher, Mr. Dalton, who sets me up at an easel in the corner with my back to the wall.
I appreciate that. He’s a large man—not tall, but with a large belly.
He seems friendly enough, and I don’t get any weird vibes from him.
He explains that students are working on their individual projects and hands me a book on painting techniques to practice.
The class starts to fill, and I notice the blue-haired girl from the hallway the other day. When she sees me, she smiles and comes over. “Hey, you’re in this class! Why haven’t I seen you here yet?” I just shrug and look at my blank canvas, avoiding eye contact.
“I’m Alex, we met the other day.” I give her a little smile and nod to show I remember.
“So you really don’t talk?” she asks in a whisper. I shake my head and play with the paintbrushes at my side.
“That’s so cool. Everyone tells me I talk too much anyway. You’ve got that cool mysterious vibe going on, you know?” She nods as if agreeing with herself, and I relax a little. She seems like she’s genuinely trying to be nice, with no hidden meaning behind her words.
“I have to talk a lot. I have four sisters, so if you don’t make yourself known, you get lost in the crowd, you know?” I nod like I understand, though I don’t.
“Okay, so now we’re friends, you have to tell me—which of the twins are you dating?”
I stare at her in shock. Which one am I dating?
“It’s Jasper, isn’t it? He seems so protective of you,” she presses, and I just stare at her, unable to answer. Why would she think I’m dating them? I barely know them.
“Oh my God, it’s Max! Ah, he’s so sweet, you two make a great couple!”
I look at her like she’s crazy, but my heart starts beating rapidly at the thought of dating one of them. But quickly, I realize I couldn’t pick one over the other. They’re both so kind and… hot. I’m just lucky to be friends with them.
“Oh my God, girl, are you dating both of them?!” she whisper-shrieks at me.
I look at her with wide eyes and put my finger over my lips in a “shh,” motion, but she takes it the wrong way. “Holy shit, girl, that’s so fucking hot! Every girl at this school is going to be so jealous when they hear!”
I shake my head rapidly, afraid she’ll start spreading that rumor.
She laughs at my reaction. “Don’t worry, secret’s safe with me! But I think people will catch on quickly. Right now, half of them think you’re the twins’ sister, and the other half are trying to figure out which one you’re dating.” I’m not sure why they would care either way.
Mr. Dalton asks the class to get started on their projects, so Alex says bye and goes to her own easel. As class goes on, I read some techniques and try them out on the canvas—not really painting anything yet, just practicing what’s in the book.
Soon enough, the class ends, and I see Max entering before I can even get my bag on my shoulder.
“Hey, Sweetheart, you have a good class?” he asks.