Getting Through It

Chapter Four

"Hey."

The jumping bean inside of me emerges. I turn around to see the owner of the voice as I put the textbook I was carrying inside my locker.

Vince.

This is weird.

"Hi?" I reply with a questioning voice.

"I finished the book. I'm going to return it after school. Just thought I'd let you know so you can get it before someone else beats you to it," he pauses a moment, eyeing me down and up right before he smiles. "Again."

My mouth forms into a small smile as I look at his. "Thanks for letting me know."

He gives me a nod. He doesn't move nor say anything else. Just stares... again.

This is really weird.

My hands find each other and start tangling my fingers together. "Did you like it?" He raises an eyebrow. "The book."

He shrugs. "You'll find out later." I give him a puzzled look, which he ignores it. "See you around." He gives me a little wink before he walks off.

As I continue to stand in place, trying to understand what just happened, I start to feel like I'm being watched. I look around, and sure enough, almost everyone in the hallway has their eyes on me, watching me like I'm a dead animal and they're some hungry vultures. I turn to my locker and try to hide my face in it.

~~~

I try to focus on the rest of my classes, but I can't. That conversation with Vince keeps replaying in my head over, and over again. You'll find out later. What did he mean by that? He might've meant that since I'm going to read it, I'll find out if he likes it or not. That doesn't make any sense though. We have different minds. Just because I like it or don't like it, doesn't mean he feels the same way.

Push it aside, Rosalie. You're thinking too much about the conversation when you should be thinking about this class... What class is this again? Right, history. Focus on the dead people.

Reminding myself to focus does help, somewhat. I focus on the teacher and what she's telling us about what's happened 100 years or so ago. My mind tries to drift back off to the conversation here and there, but I keep bringing myself back to focus. Not so hard when I think about it, actually.

If only it was this easy during my attacks.

~~~

"She literally cried because I ripped a page from her book... accidentally!"

I roll my eyes as Tony tells Alice the story of how I broke down and bawled my eyes out over a ripped paper. "I was eight!"

He throws his hands up. "What eight year old even reads?"

Alice is laughing hysterically at all of this and it brings a smile to my face. I already enjoy hanging out with her and it's barely the third day of me actually knowing her. Not to mention, what she did for me yesterday—that definitely made me a lot more comfortable with her.

Right now, we're all home in the living room. Camilla is still at work so we have the house all to ourselves. It's good Camilla isn't here, because Alice and Tony really are the definition of loud. Tony's talking as loud as he possibly can and Alice is laughing as loud as she possibly can. I'm definitely the only one who knows how to use an indoor voice.

"Hey!" I say, laughing. "At least I didn't barely stop playing with action figures at age sixteen."

This does it for Alice, she actually starts choking on air. I get her water bottle from the coffee table and hand it to her, laughing even more. She takes it and slowly drinks it. "You truly are an angel," she says to me.