Dead Girl Walking ― Aaron Minyard

60. clean

when i was drowning,
that's when i could finally breathe
and by morning
gone was any trace of you,
i think i am finally clean
― taylor swift

♦

MONDAY MEANT CLASSES, and though Mara would have gladly stayed tucked away in her dorm, the Foxes weren't the only people Mara had pushed away leading up to Baltimore. 

Laurel was already standing outside of their shared afternoon class when Mara arrived early, meager apology coffee in hand and a storm of excuses and reasons in mind. Mara stopped a good five feet away, opening her mouth only to find herself at a loss for words. 

She expected to find something colder in Laurel's face—anger or hurt or simple indifference—so the slant-browed look of something caught between relief and sympathy short-circuited Mara long enough for Laurel to be the first to speak. 

"Hey," she said, voice soft. 

Mara swallowed. "Hi." 

Laurel closed the distance between them a solid three steps. "I saw the news," she said. "I wasn't looking, it just... was kind of everywhere." 

"I know," Mara said quietly. "I'm sorry." 

Laurel's brows raised in confusion. "For having the world's shittiest father, or...?"

"For avoiding you," Mara clarified. "And being... not a good friend."

Laurel's expression fell into something soft. "I've had far worse friends."

When she reached out for a hug, Mara went instantly, and another piece of her life fell back into place. 

As she pulled away, Laurel said, "Oh my god, did you hear your tutor got arrested? It's all the math department's talking about." 

Mara winced. "Yeah, he was, uh... a friend of my father's?" 

Laurel blinked. "Oh, wow," she said. "I mean, he always gave me the creeps, but—I thought he was just frat boy evil, not serial killer accomplice evil." 

"Is it that much of a difference?" Mara asked, trying for humor. 

Laurel's snort told her the effort was appreciated. She accepted the apology coffee from Mara and asked, gently, "Are you okay?" 

"I..." Mara took a deep breath. "I'm working on it." 

Laurel smiled. "Good."

And it was.

Good.

♦

There seemed to be no more weight on Mara's shoulders as she finished her last class of the day, an evening of Abby-ordered rest and school-ordered studying ahead of her. She had plans to meet Laurel tomorrow before their first class for breakfast (Laurel was apparently on a bagel kick), and even though she wouldn't be allowed to set foot on the court for a while, she could still watch her team practice and live vicariously through them for a few hours.

She made it ten steps down the path that would take her from the arts building to Fox Tower before there was someone in her path. 

Paranoia was both inherited and practiced, and she looked immediately at the lone standing figure in the sea of departing students, dressed casually enough not to draw attention but far older than the rest of the student-body. 

Mara and the man watched each other for a long breath, and Mara knew why he was here. 

"Come," he said, and turned.