October Academy

Chapter 32

I mean, we kissed once. It was intense.... but it meant nothing. Nothing to him, and nothing to me. Atleast now I haven't only kissed one guy.

Anyways, I need to sort things out with Perry. I go straight to her dorm and knock.

She opens the door slowly.

"Come down and do laundry with me," I say with a smile.

She looks back at a laundry basket filled to the brim. "I don't..." she was about to lie and pretend she doesn't have any laundry to do, but she's a bad liar. I can physically see her mental process as she changes her mind and gives up. "Ok."

We walk down the stairwell, through the courtyard to the laundry room. There's two rows of washing machines, two rows of driers, and three ironing tables attached to the wall.

Perry is quiet the whole time. We get through both of our loads without her saying a word. The laundry room is practically always empty somehow. Only three other students walk through, not saying a word to either of us, but speaking between themselves.

I involuntarily eavesdrop on their conversation. They go on about how fifty prisoners escaped from jail, how the 'Class Killer' is getting his friends out to wreak havoc. I can't believe their paranoia. Those tabloids just want to scare people. But does it make me feel better that it's only scaring rich people?

Perry's eyes avoid mine. Even as I say, "Ready to go?" and we walk back up to our dorms.

"You want to come with me to Ben's tonight?' I ask her.

"No," she says quickly, not even trying come up with an excuse. "I don't want to."

"What is up with you? You've been ignoring me ever since the stupid Ouija board thing – and you said you forgive me and that you understand. But you're still grumpy with me. Why?"

"I'm not grumpy with you."

"So what do you call this then?" I stand in front of her door before she has the chance to go inside and hide from our problem.

"I just don't want to go to Ben's. Don't you care about what I want? Or is it always about you?"

I pause for a moment, taken back by the accusation. "I don't get it, Perry. This isn't you."

"Of course, you don't get it. Your skills of observation are as shoddy as your patience. You can barely see what's in front of you, what's been right before your eyes for years."

My expression opens in confusion. "Are you calling me stupid?"

"Yes," she says straight. "You have the attention span of a toddler and the perception of a brick. Now before you keep infuriating me till I scream, I'm going to bed."

I step aside, letting her pass through to her room. She walks herself in and slams the door.

I walk the short distance to my room, but before copying her and slamming my door too (or crying in poor comprehension skills), I pull my phone out from my pocket and text the first person that comes to mind.

And it's Darcy.

Me: You up?

Darcy: Depends what for.

Me: To talk?

Darcy: Ok.

Me: Meet me in the parking lot.

It's not curfew yet, but it will be in about half an hour, which means Darcy and I will have to sneak back in without being caught. It shouldn't be a big deal.