Miss O'Connell | B.E

Ⅷ

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Billie.

Billie.

Billie.

It was maddeningly perfect. Of course her name was Billie. How could it be anything else? She looked like a Billie, held herself like a Billie. The name fit her like a second skin.

Divine was going mad; she couldn't stop thinking about Billie. That name—so deceptively simple, yet impossible to forget. Just like Billie herself. A beautiful name for an even more beautiful face. An endless loop of obsession. She wanted Billie all to herself, every inch, every moment.

No one had ever looked at her the way Billie did. No one. And Divine craved that attention. She had craved it for so long, the need had become part of her she had almost forgotten just how badly she needed it.

Divine huddled in her cubby, squinting as she flicked through Teresa's journal, trying to decipher the faded words. There was no more light from her drained LED light, neglected by the sun for days during the relentless storm. Rain had poured like tears from a grieving sky, leaving her lights uncharged. She had used a single candle instead, it flickered beside her on the rough, old wood, its flame swaying in the gloom, with a soft crackle of burning wax.

She sighed deeply, having long since abandoned any real attempt to make sense of Teresa's scrawl. Now, she simply stared at the blank pages, her thoughts drifting aimlessly, dry as dust in the still air. And every stray thought seemed to circle back to Billie—always Billie.

a soft knock on the wooden doors above her scared the living lights out of her. 

Thud.

"Shit!" she whispered, eyes wide with panic slamming the book shut. In all the time she had been sneaking away to this hidden cubby under the oak tree, ever since child services had first placed her in this suffocating boarding school, she had never been caught. She had explored nearly every shadowy corner of the school during those sticky summer nights, always undetected. 

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earlier.

1:55 a.m. 

Billie was ready to finally sink into sleep beneath her satin covers, after hours and hours of grading papers. But just as she was about to drift off, a creak echoed through the floorboards in the hallway outside her door. She froze, listening as faint footsteps faded down the corridor. Curious, she quietly got up and cracked her door open, just in time to see Divine making her way toward the stairs.

Instead of calling out to her and stopping her, Billie's curiosity kept her silent. She wondered where Divine was going at this hour, and why she was carrying that same worn leather journal again. Unable to resist, Billie grabbed her satin robe from the hanger and slipped it on. She then reached for the sturdy leather shoes the school had issued to the teachers for wet weather, and quietly followed Divine.

As she trailed behind, Billie noticed how sure Divine seemed of her path, like she'd done this a hundred times before. She watched her slide down the spiral rail of stairs, then tiptoe through the main lobby to a window tucked in the far left corner. Billie's heart skipped a beat as she watched Divine effortlessly unlock the window and slip outside. She couldn't help but find her casual movements as attractive as ever.