Prom Night

vii. shifting sands

CH 7

MAYA DOESN'T WANT TO GET OUT OF BED. She shares this feeling every morning, but today it is an anchor driving her down to the depths of hell, heavy and excruciating and something she can't find in herself to make an effort for.

"Maya," her mom's voice is sweet and giddy, managing to cut through the dark haze of her mind. "Peter's here again." Her face drops when she peeks her head inside Maya's room and notices her still lying in bed. "Maya?"

"Tell him I'll be there in five minutes," she mumbles out, covering her face with her blanket, trying to hide her embarrassment. I must look pathetic.

"Are you alright?"

She nods under the blanket, willing herself not to cry. She can't be absent again, no matter how much she yearns for it today. Not only would it leave her farther behind on her lessons than she already is, but Peter warned her not to do it again without his permission.

I hate him. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.

"I'm fine," she collects herself, sitting up and getting out of bed. "Just feeling kind of lazy this morning."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, mom. I'm fine. Really."

She scans her room for her uniform and sluggishly pulls it on. Maybe she needs to overthink her plan. Maybe it's a bad idea to tempt and taunt them, maybe she should stick to following their orders and just try to get through the year. Surely they'll move on after they graduate, they'll move far away, and she'll stay here, she'll hide forever from them if she has to. But she has to get through this year. Somehow.

Her hair is an unruly mess on her head, and instead of brushing it and making it pleasing to play with, she lets it stay tangled. Just to spite them a bit, she can't help it.

She doesn't bother with makeup, admiring the bags under her eyes. She looks pale and tired, sickly. Undesirable. She quite likes it.

When she leaves, she doesn't bother eating breakfast or saying goodbye to her mom. She just walks out the front door and into the annoyed face of Peter Remington. "You're late," he states, not bothering to wait around for her anymore as he marches to his car. She rolls her eyes, swallowing down the need to apologize or explain herself. She will not give him that satisfaction.

Once they're in the car, Peter keeps his distance, sitting on one side and allowing her to comfortably sit on the other. Perhaps not putting much effort into her appearance had worked in her favor after all.

"How did you sleep?" The question is asked so abruptly and so not like a question that it takes Maya a moment to register the words.

Confused, she replies, "Alright. I got a couple of hours." She briefly entertains the idea of asking him the question back but doesn't feel up to the task, mostly because she doesn't care.

She glances at him a few moments of silence later and finds him staring at her in an odd fashion. Irritated, she blurts out, "What?" She doesn't know what is making her act boldly, especially after the morning or regret she had, just a few minutes ago.

Peter raises a brow, taken aback by her response. "You look different." He looks over what is sure to be her unruly appearance, then meets her eyes and smirks. "Did our kiss affect you that much?"

Now it's Maya's turn to look taken aback. What the fuck? It takes everything in her not to blurt that out, too. Instead, she lets her mouth hang open in what must be the stupidest fashion ever. Peter laughs. Maya has never heard him laugh before without sounding evil. She is absolutely dumbfounded. He grabs her chin, gently closing her mouth. "I'll take that as a yes."