Page 22 of Unrequited

My hands tremble.

Will the text go through?

I don’t know.I don’t know.

Seconds later, a reply bubble pops up. Relief surges through my veins.

Seamus

Fucking hell

stay there.

I’m on my way.

Whatever you do DO NOT LEAVE

STALL

How? How do I stall a man who’s trying to hurt me?

He comes back, and I force myself to smile. My voice wobbles, and my thoughts are scrambled. “What did you tell them?”

“I said we needed a minute alone,” he says.

I force a giggle. “All you need is a minute?”

My knees buckle.

I collapse like my legs have given out. I gag. And then I vomit, right there.

On the cement.

“Oh, gross,” he groans, backing up.

“It’s your fault,” I spit, wiping my mouth, retching again foreffect. “You put something in my drink. What’d you think was gonna happen? I’d fall in love with you?”

He snarls and then shoves me. I fall, cracking my head against the underside of the bleachers.

Blood trickles into my eye.

My god.

This isexactlywhat Rafail warned me about, exactly what I am supposed to avoid.

And yet—here I am.

Under the bleachers. With children.

And I’m done pretending. I’m only twenty, butIam not a child.

I was born into war, raised by criminals, and lived through the brutal assassination of my own parents. I don’t belong in this fake-normal world.

I fumble for the blade in my boot, but I don’t trust myself to use it. He’s too big. Too fast.

If I slice him and he catches me, the price will be too high.

I always bring a knife because I can’t carry a gun on campus. They’d find out, and I’d be done. But a knife is tricky and hard to handle in situations like this.