Alamort

25. Priya

No Roots - Alice Merton

priya

Our word for the day is, agathokakological (adj.) – something that possesses both good and evil.

I think I met someone who embodies this word. You probably wouldn’t approve because you never thought anyone was deserving of my time. Or maybe I’m delusional from the lack of sleep and I’m hanging on by a thread and making excuses, so I don’t have a mental breakdown.

Is it too late to runaway?

I’m joking… kinda. This place is locked down like Fort Knox.

Iloveyou.

F og covers the school grounds as if someone left their Halloween machine out. The chill of the air seeps into my bones. Arms of the woods peek out against the mist, looking for unsuspecting souls to grab and pull in. Last night left me feeling and looking like a zombie. Autopilot has me going through the motions. River is her chirpy self. Not even the strong coffee she made me this morning has put a dent in my brain’s fuzziness.

I love her, but I can’t keep up today. She reminds me of a toddler, talking a mile a minute.

I wonder what Mother Dearest would say about me today. I barely managed my curly hair into a low, slicked back bun with money pieces out. River said I looked cute, but I’m second guessing. I should go back to the dorms.

My mind wanders to the cause of my tiredness. Irritation duels with my exhaustion. What type of psychopath breaks into someone’s room, ties them up “just to talk”? I sleep at night knowing my room was a community area for breaking and entering. No matter where I’m at, I can’t seem to get privacy. But there is a difference. No one that has been in my dorm room has laid a hand on me in anger.

A pang of sadness hits me when I think that…he might be lonely, too. He mentioned knowing about how it feels last night as he laid out my truth, exposing me.

That’s still not a normal way to make friends. River breaks into my room but doesn’t touch me.

His questions made me more uncomfortable than when he pulled me into the woods. I don’t like when people notice things about me. Significant details and then throw them in my face, showing me my imperfections. Could he be the eyes I’ve felt watching me?

He’ll be back. He only asked a couple of questions. There has to be a way this could benefit me. He was kind enough to warn me about something. No idea what he was talking about, but it’s the thought that counts.

River bounces in front of me, pulling open the cafeteria door to guide me to our table. What time did I wake up? 1:30 or 2AM. Next time he decides to have a heart to heart, it better be on a weekend when I don’t have to wake up early. River places an order on the tablet and hands it to me. Staring blankly at the screen, I don’t know what I want.

“Maybe try some French toast this morning? A sugar rush will help for a little.” I bite back a retort. If I ever see my parents and my mother thinks I put on weight. I shudder at her wrath. She would make me throw it up or run off the weight until I pass out. Settling for ignoring her suggestion, I go for an assortment of fresh fruit. It has natural sugars in it, that should help. I hope.

My first class is psychology this morning, and to say I’m far from excited is an understatement. Dealing with my silent and broody partner. Crew sucks more energy from me than being exhausted ever would. We’ve had at least three more partner assignments since then and he refuses to do any of the work. Leaving me to figure it out by myself, causing me to pull late nights so it doesn’t affect my grades.

A waiter comes and sets River’s stack of pancakes flooded with syrup in front of her and in front of me, the “assortment” of fruits I asked for is a piece of lettuce. Glaring at the waiter in a white dress shirt and slacks, I barely keep my cool. River must read my mood because she jumps in.

“Uh, that’s not what she ordered. She orders almost the same thing every day.”

“I-I’m just doing what I’m told.” His eyes won’t meet mine.

“By who?” The question comes out more snippy than I intended. The waiter shrugs and scurries towards the kitchen, making himself scarce.

“What the frick?” River whispers, stunned, looking past me.

Oscar and his little buddies. What an unpleasant surprise. The last interaction I had with him he wanted nudes.

“Carter.” He puts his arm around me, causing an involuntary flinch. Slowly, I grab my fork and bring it underneath the table. He laughs it off. “I’m sure you’ve heard of the bet going around?” I look at River, who looks sheepish.

“No.” I say, trying unsuccessfully to shrug out from underneath his arm.

“River!” He puts a hand to his chest in mock shock. “You didn’t tell her? You naughty girl.” Tsking, he returns his attention to me. Whispering low in my ear. “The bet is who can fuck you first. Proof gets half a million dollars and a classic Bentley. So, what do you say? Want to make a video? I’ll give you half the cash.” His brace straight teeth, purposely messy dark hair, doesn’t do it for me. Nor does the disgusting way he just propositioned me for sex. People really make bets like this? Everyone here has deep pockets. There isn’t one person who attends this school as a student who would need either of those things. His arm reaches across my body to my exposed leg of my skirt. With a tight grip on the fork, I bring it up from its hiding place in my skirt, pressing it where his balls would be if he had any.

A quick stab of the fork into his balls, he hisses while jerking away from me. I lean closer, so our audience doesn’t hear.

“Oscar.” I say with a sickly sweet smile. “You have three seconds to get away from our table before I puncture your tiny balls for propositioning me with that nasty bet.” My lips touch the shell of his ear. “Don’t forget what I told you the night of the party. This is the second time you have put your hands on me without permission. I always keep my promises.” Tapping his chest, he releases the breath he was holding when I pull away.

He laughs, but his eyes hold a promise of retribution. “Let’s get out of here.” He stands and his friends follow suit. “I bet she’s only a prude in public. But she’s nasty in the sheets.” He winks, making me bristle. Empty threats won’t do. I’ll have to act on my promise.

I turn my eyes back to River, raising my eyebrows in disapproval of this type of secret keeping.

“I was going to tell you! The time just never felt right. I mean, how do you tell someone there is a bet about being the first person to sleep with you?” She cringes.

Shaking my head, I don’t have the energy to deal with this today.

“I wanted to protect you from it.” She admits. It thaws my heart a little at the cold shoulder I’m giving her.

Relenting, I answer, “River, things like that are important for me to know. What if he and his friends cornered me by myself?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that and if I would have thought it was something serious to consider, I would’ve said something. I’ve never seen him act like that before.”

“Then help me get back at him.” It’s more of a test to see where her loyalties lie. She nods excitedly. Something to preoccupy me, a little revenge.

“Do you know who is fucking with my food?” I ask River, crossing my arms. She looks in the corner to where the Demons’ lair is. I don’t need to look to know they’re staring. I can feel their eyes on the side of my face.

The bell rings, letting students know they have five minutes to get to class. Gathering my black bag, I wave River off and go to my class with the broody Demon who was in on my breakfast fiasco. River and I part ways after breakfast. Or her breakfast and my rabbit food. As she makes her way out through the entrance, I enter through the side door that leads to the lengthy hallway. The rhythmic clicking of my heels on black and white polished tiles echo through the space. Tracing my fingertips over the rough, weathered wainscot paneling, I’m reminded of the depth of this place’s history. I wonder if there are any secret passageways. That would be worth exploring.

In the middle of the hallway, I come across school photos. Only ten individual photos hang on the wall showcasing the short span of the school’s life. There is no sign of the Demons’ presence in the photo from last year. The two years before that the Demon boys stand in the center of the crowd that gives them wide birth. The twins wear matching scowls, arms crossed over their chests. Standing on the left side is Saint with a half-forced smile. To the right of the twins is a darker skinned boy who has an arm thrown over one of the twins’ shoulders, pulling him in towards himself, wearing a beaming smile that reaches his eyes. The closest person to them in both is Amber Astor. Go figure.

The last picture I look at was taken three years ago. The boy's freshman year. Saint’s eyes focus to the right of him, a smirk lining his lips.

Holy shit.

That’s Megan Riley!

While everyone is staring at the camera, these two are staring at each other, happiness written on Megan’s face. Did they have a thing? We’re they together? Did the Demons’ have a hand in their disappearance like River suggested?

River! Oh man, I’ve got to tell her! There’s no way she wouldn’t want to know what I’ve found out. The curiosity would kill her and maybe then she’d want to help.

A door closes in the distance, causing me to jump and turn towards the noise. Once again, face to face with Oscar. This time, I’m alone.