Eternal Adoration [ON PAUSE]

8. New Friends

SERAPHINA

You know how I said I wouldn't try and make a run for it because I'm slow and Aristide would certainly catch me? Well, I lied. Because after a moment of me staring at him and him staring back, I turn around and hustle toward the entrance.

It's a warm day, but not stifling enough to mess up my hair, so I attempt to zoom past the gates and make it to the door quick enough for Aristide to confuse my running for a weird form of dancing until he's wondering where I've disappeared to.

Of course, my amazing plan is destroyed when I make it past the gates and find myself in a parking lot so huge and expensive that I have to stop running to gape.

"Holy mother of money, this is unreal." Cars upon cars upon cars, all bright and sparkly, most of them models that look like what I imagine cousins of the Batmobile look like, all belonging to students.

I know this because on the far corner of the lot, toward the front, a big sign reads Faculty Only, meaning that all the spots with fancy cars belong to students. Granted, there are a few cars sprinkled in with more normal models, but those are a few and far between.

"You run like a scared little chicken," Aristide says next to me, like it's a normal thing to tell someone else, "it's quite adorable, the way you flail your legs left to right."

"I'm not little." I look back at the large door just to make sure it's still there, then turn toward where Aristide stands a few feet from me, hands in his pockets as if he just materialized out of nowhere.

"But you're scared?" He tilts his head in question, taking a step toward me.

Yes. "No, I am not," I scoff, making a point of turning around and walking toward where the arched double doors await my arrival and the brick of the school building beckons me forward.

I hear him following behind me, but I ignore him, focusing on other things like getting the paper schedule that I printed at the library out of my bag.

Just reading my course list makes me excited: Hilltop's Historical Records with Dr. Roscoff, African American History Since 1865 with Mr. Mendez, Calculus 100 with Mrs. Stein, and AP Human Geography with Dr. Truffaut. Apart from the math, the rest of the classes should be a breeze.

I'm looking forward to getting back to learning about things that I care about and not taking classes to satisfy Hilltop's general education requirement so I could be considered as a transfer student. Plus, this school is so excellent that the majority of the faculty hold PhDs and have taught at some of the nation's best institutions.

"Seraphina," Aristide calls my name when I've managed to ignore him for a few seconds.

"What do you need, Aristide?"

"We need to talk."

I shake my head but don't turn around to acknowledge him, instead, I pick up the pace without running lest he tells me once again that I run like a friggin' chicken. A scared little chicken.

"There's nothing for us to talk about, Aristide." Just a few more feet, and I'll be in the safety of the school, Williamson Hilltop the Third serenading me once more as I walk down his corridors. "Thank you again for everything, seriously-"

Before I can finish my gracious thank you, his hand is wrapping around my arm and pulling me to the side of the building, closer to where the ivy snakes up the concrete.

"I don't need your fucking thank you's," he grits out as if my gratitude annoys him.

"Okay then, what is it that you so desperately need, Aristide?" I cross my arms, not because of anything but the fact that his touch is sending unwanted signals up my limb. Even through the jacket, I could feel him. "What is it that you need that just can't wait, huh?"