On Day two of Simon's hiatus, an announcement crackled over the school's loudspeaker.
"Zara DeRealis, there is a package waiting for you at the reception. Zara DeRealis, there is a package waiting for you at the reception."
The receptionist wasn't halfway through the first phrase, that Zara had already gathered up her writing utensils and dropped them into her pencil case. Her eyes snapped up to the clock hanging on the door; only ten minutes left before lunchtime. By the time she walked to the reception and back, the bell would have already rung.
Zara raised her hand.
"You can leave once you have done the questions I've assigned," Her History teacher murmured, attention on the novel before her. Zara nodded and scribbled her name on the sheet. She then collected her belongings and walked to the front of the class and placed it on her teacher's desk.
"I ran out of space for the last two so I wrote them on the back."
The teacher skim-read her answers, flipped the page, then nodded. "You're dismissed."
Zara flew out of the room and into the corridor, escaping from congregational silence into solitary silence. That's when the voices riled up again—they seemed to do that whenever Zara was in her own company. If she wasn't surrounded by other people, then the voices would step in to fill that emptiness. It was annoying, needless to say, as Zara enjoyed her alone time. But this issue must've stemmed from her childhood, where she spent most of her days in forced solitude.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket for the fifteenth time, and she pulled it out to silence it.
Ten new texts. Three missed calls.
All from Max.
She rolled her eyes, and deleted all of them without a second thought. After that disrespect from the day before, Zara was not in the mood to speak to him. He had to learn that when you mistreat someone for no reason, you cannot expect that someone to crawl back at a petty 'sorry'. He was used to girls coming back to him after being treated like shit, but Zara wasn't like them—she would make that fact crystal clear to him.
A part of her revelled in his attention, while the other was miffed by it. He was turning into a macho version of Saffron, and although Zara preferred the copy to the original, it was slowly beginning to get on her nerves.
Now for the package.
I wonder what it could be?
What if it's Simon's head, in a purple box tied with a red ribbon? That would make for a gruesome surprise.
Oh don't be silly, who would have time for such a frivolity? I say it's a puppy.
A puppy? You're delusional.
The voices continued arguing over the package, accompanying Zara all the way to the reception. Once she reached the front desk, she leaned over the green counter to look down at a short woman. She wore a floral dress that complimented her pink headband, and her blonde hair was cut into a bob.
"How may I help you?" The receptionist asked, detaching her gaze from a computer screen and folding her manicured hands over the keyboard. She looked like a porcelain doll.
"Uhm, there's a package for me?" Zara rarely ever presented herself around this part of the school, so she was as much of a stranger to them as they were to her.
"Oh yes! Zara right?" The woman had a strong Southern accent which she hadn't noticed before. At Zara's nod, she jumped to her feet and squealed like a little girl, clasping her hands together. "You are such a lucky girl! I'm jealous!"
YOU ARE READING
Deadly Secrets
General Fiction[NOW FEATURED IN GENERAL FICTION!!!] Everybody has secrets, something to hide. Some say your secrets are your blood; when you shed too much of it, you die. For Zara DeRealis, nothing is as heavy a burden as her tempestuous past. Orphaned as a young...
