The Legend of the Eight: The Twisted (Book 3)

5: The Hard Part

FIVE: THE HARD PART
APRIL 4
WIL DIAMOND

HER LEG WAS DOING THAT thing where it was constantly shaking. She was sitting in her desk during a European History class and though she tried to sit still, there was no end to her fidgeting.

There wasn't a reason for it—rather, there wasn't a single reason for it. Instead, there were about forty million reasons for her unease, beginning with the fact that she was alive despite a very vivid memory of having her throat slit by Jeremiah. And though she should've been relieved that she survived such an attack, she couldn't on anything but the very certain belief that she shouldn't have been alive.

So far, her first day at the mortal school was hardly eventful though that may have been due to the fact that Wil spent most of the day in a daze. Sitting in her history class while her teacher went on about some king (his name was Henry and he apparently had a lot of wives which he beheaded), Wil felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She carefully slipped it out and checked it under her desk, careful not to let her teacher spot her.

DAMON: How are ya doing?

She bit her lip while she contemplated her reply. Currently, Damon was back at the house scrolling through want ads on his computer and she knew he was probably going stir-crazy. How could he not be? He was starting over—again—and he didn't have a clue what to do with himself. He told her that teaching was never a passion of his and it was merely an opportunity he took advantage of when offered. He didn't want to make a career out of it. He was stuck in limbo, trying to figure out his next step, and Wil knew he was struggling with it.

For that reason, when Damon asked her how she was doing, she didn't tell him the truth—that she was struggling too. She didn't tell him about the constant racing in her heart as she waited for the next thing. Or about her sweaty palms when she would see flashbacks of what happened in the Shadow Lands.

WIL: I'm okay. Tired. Mortal school is boring.

A few seconds later, the gray bubble appeared at the bottom of the screen as Damon typed his response. Her phone buzzed once he sent it and she smiled as she read it.

DAMON: You'll be fine, babe. A little mortal school never killed anybody.

AROUND LUNCH, WIL WANDERED FROM her locker (a strange concept, she thought, though it appeared to be necessary in a school where students couldn't just spell their books to and from their dorms as needed) to the cafeteria. Along the way, Chloe spotted her and joined her.

"Hey Wil!" Chloe said with a cheery smile, hurrying along and adjusting the leather tote under her arm. She slowed her pace to match Wil's and her smile held its position along the way.

"Hi Chloe," Wil said dully though her lack of enthusiasm had less to do with the person she was speaking to and more so with the day that never seemed to end. "You're headed to lunch too?"

Chloe nodded. "I think the whole gang is, actually." She giggled to herself quietly. "How cool is that? It's like we're all in this secret club."

Wil let out a sarcastic cackle. "Yeah. Right. Give it some time. The novelty will wear."

"Are you always this pessimistic?" Chloe asked, scrunching her nose. They turned the hall corner and the doors to the cafeteria were now in sight. Wil could see Phoebe and Drew turning in together, laughing about something she couldn't hear.

Wil looked at Chloe briefly before replying,

"Today must be just a special day for that, Lawson."