Dangerous

Chapter 7

One week at the institution; it felt like an eternity. I returned to my room after a late dinner in the cafeteria, feeling exhausted. My muscles ached, and they groaned in protest at the thought of tomorrow. Matt had promised yet another rigorous training session.

I picked up a set of clean clothes laying on my bed and headed toward the community showers. After an unnecessary comment about how much I needed one, Rodney had given me directions to the shower hall. The first few days, the only "showering" I was permitted to do was wash off with a washcloth in my room. Sweat and grime clung to my hair and clothes, and I was eager to cleanse my skin of the day's activities.

After taking a wrong turn or two, I finally ended up at the showers. I headed into the girls shower room, my clean clothes in my arms. The other girls in the shower hall went through their routines quietly, brushing hair and teeth without a sound. I thought back to Liz's comment about these people being robots. It was certainly a possibility.

The water ran uncomfortably cold, even on the hottest temperature, and I sighed quietly. A new bar of soap sat on the ledge, and I scrubbed my body and hair in a vain attempt to rid my mind of thoughts of home, of my brothers, of Cassidy and my mother, sitting alone in the kitchen, of Dad. I still missed them all like crazy. Salty tears mixed with the streams of water trailing down my face, and I stood in that shower, a bottle of dangerous emotions, until the water ran frigid.

After dressing and combing through my tangled hair, I brushed my teeth and headed back to my room. My steps were heavy, drowsiness and exhaustion kicking in. Even after long days of school and training, it was hard for me to sleep at night.

The shouts of guards lifted me from my drowsy state immediately. I listened intently as Rodney's voice echoed across the hall, mixed with a boy's voice, words jumbled and impossible to understand. I halted my steps, waiting uneasily. The voices had gone silent, and I wondered if it was safe to continue back to my room. Just as I took another step, the boy shouted again.

I froze. I would know that voice from anywhere.

I sprinted down the corridor, skidding around the corner, just in time to see him. My heart plummeted into my stomach.

He stood firmly in place, hands clenched into fists, arms restrained at his sides by handcuffs. He was shouting something at Rodney, his voice loud and echoing across the empty hallway, but I didn't hear a thing. I didn't think he could have looked so different in a week's time. Bags hung under his eyes, his lips were bright red and chapped, his skin pale, but somehow he had never looked so angry, so alive. The more he yelled, the more color rushed to his cheeks, the more his eyes glistened with unshed emotion. I stood in awe, watching him for a moment, forgetting that the only emotions I should have been feeling in this institution were regret, and fear, and hatred.

He had stopped shouting now. Rodney said something to him, something I couldn't hear. The color drained from his face as quickly as it had rushed into it. He shook his head rapidly, no. Tears filled his eyes now, no. No.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Rodney grabbed his arm quickly, hauling him across the hallway to a room several doors down from mine. I froze.

"Chase." His name was barely audible in the space between us, but he heard me. Spinning around frantically, his distressed gray eyes met my blue ones. He gasped, and my heart stopped. He looked so childish in that moment, so lost, so confused. I blinked back tears, shaking my head desperately, but I stood frozen, my feet stuck to the floor.

"Jess," he whispered, voice laced with emotion, before Rodney shoved him into his room and slammed the door.