Deadly Secrets

Chapter 24: The Butterfly

[Revised]

Zara stomped all the way to her locker.

What's wrong, little lady? The voice in her head taunted.

"Nothing. Don't bother me," she said out loud.

Come on. You know I can keep a secret.

Zara almost convulsed with laughter at the declaration.

"Right. But you make up for it by making me pass out every twenty minutes." When Zara reached the row of lockers, she crouched down so she could unlock hers. She absolutely hated the bottom locker—in theory, you were meant to swap with the person above you every term, but Zara was too shy to ask, and they were too selfish to care.

Zara. Stop back-talking me and tell me what's going on.

"Okay, okay." Zara sighed, subservient. "It's Saffron. He has these stupid mood swings—one moment he's all nice and the next he's glued to his phone."

Oh. I know why he's being like this, the little fucker.

Zara was momentarily taken aback by the voice's colorful choice of words. "Why is he?" she asked cautiously, preferring not to address it. She resumed her task, but the lock wouldn't unlock, no matter how many times she turned the dial with the combination. A strange feeling of déjà vu itched the back of her neck.

Laughter echoed inside her skull. He fucked up the other day and is trying to make it up to you. Trying and failing, by the look of it. 

Without thinking, Zara pulled a bobby pin out of her hair and shoved it into the bottom part of the lock. She began to fiddle around with it as if it was second nature to her—Zara surprised herself sometimes.

"Hey."

She yelped, almost jumping out of her skin. Zara had been so concentrated on trying to break the lock that she hadn't heard Max sneak up behind her. The bobby pin flew away and out of sight.

Zara looked up at him above his glasses, then lightly banged her head against the locker door. "You scared me."

"Do you need help?" He asked, crouching down beside her. Before she could even react, he reached up into her hair and extracted another bobby pin. Her curls spilled out of her bun as a result, and she was quick to protest about it.

"What was that for? Do you know how long it took me to get my hair like that? How dare you, have you no respect for other people's personal space? I can't believe—"

Max tinkered with the lock as she complained; he had it unlocked and in his hand in ten seconds flat. 

"Wow." Zara fell silent, embarrassed. "Thanks."

Max shrugged and handed her the lock, his green eyes never leaving her face.

"I think we should meet up at the library for that assignment." He stood up and took a step backwards, allowing Zara to open her locker and pull out her book for the next period.

"When?"

"Thursday?"

Zara stopped her rummaging and looked up at him. "Sorry, but I'm busy on Thursday afternoons. Maybe some other time." She returned to what she was doing, pulling out a binder and a notebook. Her stomach was a bundle of nerves.

Why are you talking to him? Do you have any idea about what he did to you?

No...What did he do? 

Psh, as if I'd tell you. 

You're not doing a very good job of—

"Hey babe," a honeyed voice said, as fake as its owner.