DEVIANT [H.S.]

8 - Strain

I walk back to Harry's room, drained of most of my energy. Not necessarily physical, but mental. I have acquired so much information today that my head could burst at any moment. Once I reach the door, I swing it open and stumble in, staggering to my bed.

Before I know it I'm laying face down, groaning into my stiff pillow. There's so much information to retain.

Then again, escaping is on the table.

While Malachi showed me around the compound I looked around with an attentive eye, trying to find any faults in the architecture that could be to my advantage. I couldn't find any crevice or pipeline that could be used as a runaway route.

Eventually I gave up and had to listen to Malachi go on and on about how me being here is an important thing.

I don't see how important I can be. At least to this whole Deviant thing. I'm only the bait.

The squeak of mattress springs bounces through my ears, and I turn my head to see Harry sitting on the edge of his bed. He doesn't look up to greet me. I really don't want him to anyway.

I shift my head and bury it back in my pillow, attempting to close my eyes and rest.

Harry has a different plan.

A loud boom of music shoots through the room, playing at the highest and most annoying level. I groan for what seems like the thousandth time.

I turn my head to look over to him. His hair pushed back from his forehead and he is standing, taking off his leather jacket. Eyes on me.

"Do you need something?" He says coldly, not looking up from the ground.

I shake my head. "No, just wondering why you're playing music so loud in here!"

"None of your business!" He remarks loudly above the noise, walking over to the end of his bed and kneeling down to grab something. When he stands back up, I see it's a book.

"Are you going to spend all day looking at me or are you going to leave?" He sneers, plopping down on his bed and opening his book up to a bookmarked page.

Eh, I don't want to have to deal with this kind of attitude after all that I've been exposed to today.

"I'm going to leave now..." I mumble as I scurry out of the room.

I press my back against the door, the vibrations of the voluminous music beating through my bones. Closing my eyes, I try to make sense of the music, its lyrics, focusing on anything but Harry.

Another thing added to the list of why I'm not the biggest fan of the curly-haired prick: his attitude sucks.

Mine does too, unfortunately.

I decide to do something rather than just stand against a door and think, so I walk down the hall towards the Sphere, the only place I can truly think of. When I walk into the familiar territory, a pair of unfamiliar gray eyes gaze at me.

The girl has long maroon hair that flows down past her ribs and a body that puts mine to shame. All the leather she's wearing makes her look like a hard criminal, but an agile one nevertheless.

"Serena, nice to see you again," She mumbles off sarcastically, her voice seeming so clear and relevant in my head. She notices my confusion, quickly holding her hand out for me to shake.

"Oh, I forgot. You couldn't see me through the glass," She says, her eyes lighting up. "I'm Aubrey."

Oh. The bitchy one.

"Serena," I reply as my palm comes in contact with hers.

"So, what are you doing out here? I figured you'd be confined in the blankets of your bed," Aubrey laughs, pulling away and adjusting the black tape wrapped around her fingers.