Chapter 16

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“That doesn’t look like Malik’s car,” Aunt Bev said as I came through the front door.

 Busted.

“Yeah.  Um… its Valerie’s…”

Aunt Bev knew when I was lying.  There was no point to making anything up.

“The girl you saw kissing another guy?”

I tried recalling our conversation that day to see if I had mentioned that detail.  Either way, the memory stung.  Even if Valerie did have a valid reason for it. 

“Yeah, she did,” I confessed sheepishly.  “But, we talked it out and it’s all better now.”

“And now you two are dating?” she said.  She lowered her head so that she was looking at me over her reading glasses.

I shrugged.  “Yeah, something like that.”

Did holding hands make us official?  Or did we have to put it on Facebook?  How did they do it back in the days before Facebook?

She didn’t say anything else, but continued to glare at me.  I took that as my cue to be free. 

Unfortunately, I was parched so I lingered in the kitchen to get a drink.  I knew when I heard Aunt Bev clear her throat there was more she wanted to say.

“Miles, nephew, I don’t like you with this girl.”

I frowned but kept my face in the fridge, pretending to look for a drink.  Eventually, I grabbed the carton of chocolate milk.

“Thank you Aunt Bev for sharing your opinion,” I said, rather sarcastically.

“Watch your mouth.”

“Well what do you want me to say?” I demanded, glaring at her.

She glared back at me. 

“Don’t forget whose house you live in,” she said.

I sighed.  “What do you have against Valerie anyway?”

“What do you have for her?  Isn’t she with a guy every other month?”

In between my shock for her knowing that, I made a mental note to raise that question when I would see Valerie later that night.

"You keep up with this?"

"No, the librarian told me."

"Do you old people have nothing better to do than talk about the lives of students?”

“I, as a good guardian, was concerned so asked around for details on Valerie Wingfield.  She seems like a good kid, but she and her friends have a way with boys.”

I couldn’t believe it.  And, even more so, I just wanted the conversation over.

I sighed.  “Thank you for caring, Aunt Bev,” I said, with an intentional lack of sarcasm.  “I’ll ask Valerie about this next time I talk with her.”

At least I was half honest.

“Good.  I’m just looking out for you nephew,” she claimed.

***

I was cold.  My teeth didn’t chatter.  My body didn’t shiver.  Nor did my hairs stand up.  But, an undeniable chill filled my chest.

I yanked my arms to discover they were shackled.  A chain extended from my bonds to a massive desk at the front of the classroom.  I sat among several rows of the smaller, student desks.  Yet the others were occupied by bleach white bones, also chained by the wrist.  Charcoal gray brick made up the floors and walls, instead of the white tiles and cream-colored stone I was used to. 

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