𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 (Ash Trilogy #3) ✔️

8

My theory that Marcel tells Snow to not talk to me feels confirmed now.

Five days, and she hasn't spoken a word to me. She ignores me during class and basically runs out so that I can't catch up to her.

I sit in my seat. I'm early, again. I look down at the seat she usually sits in, empty since she probably won't be getting here for another few minutes. 

Nobody in the room is paying attention to me. I reach down and grab the bottle of water I brought and unscrew the lid. I do another check around the room to make sure nobody is watching me before pouring the liquid onto Snow's seat, getting it soaking wet.

Casually, I put the empty bottle back in my bag and sit as if I hadn't just done a thing.

The door opens behind me a few minutes later. I sit, acting like my eyes aren't on her as I click my pen over and over again.

She walks over to her seat, but right before she drops her bag, she notices it's wet and swears under her breath.

She looks around the room, trying to find another seat. Slowly, her eyes land on me, and I watch her face as the realization settles in that the only seats available are the two on both of my sides.

She swears to herself and stands there for a moment, doing another check to make sure she hadn't missed any open seats. And she didn't.

Awkwardly, she walks down the row to the seat to my right. I act like I'm not affected at all as she drops her bag to the ground and takes a seat, looking forward and crossing her legs, acting like I'm not even there.

I keep looking forward as I click my pen. I whisper, "You that obsessed with me to come sit next to me?"

"No," she responds quickly, also continuing to look forward as my professor begins to teach. "My seat is soaking wet. Like somebody dumped water on it."

"I wonder who would do such a thing," I say in a fake dramatic voice as I set my pen between my teeth.

Out of my peripheral vision, I see her jaw drop and her head turn to look at me. She whispers through clenched teeth, "What is wrong with you?"

"My partner left me no other options. Ignoring me like the plague when our project remains unworked on," I try and make it sound like it's about the project, but it's not.

I couldn't give less of a shit about the project. I just wanted to talk to her. Hear her voice. Even if it's her being annoyed with me. 

"I don't believe you," she says.

Now, I turn to look at her.

Those honey eyes.

"Something has changed, Snow," I state. "For the past few days you won't even look at me. I can tell something has changed. You aren't being yourself."

"And what would you know about myself," she questions, a little bit of anger showing in her voice.

I lean forward, closer to her. 

"I know that you base all your outfits around the shoes you want to wear that day, they always match. I know that you haven't taken that silver necklace off once and that it was a gift from your mother. I know that cupcakes are your favorite food," I list things off one by one. "And I know that you're letting Marcel control who you talk to."

She stares at me. With an emotion I can't recognize. She swallows, her chest rising and falling slightly. 

"I shouldn't have let that happen," she finally replies. "In the museum." 

I stare back. Regret after regret, secret after secret. That's what it always feels like between us. 

Maybe that's all we are.