The Perks of Being a Freak (Editing)

77. Dr. Gregory Hanson, Ph.D And Professional Bitch

Since it was something like five degrees outside, Aaron decided to drive. Which was nice. It meant that my wings weren’t freezing and my fingers could actually feel.

I spent most of the trip listening to music, glaring out at the road, and trying to calm my heart.

I remembered the glass double doors. It seemed like just yesterday we had been rushing through them, escaping from hell. Now I was voluntarily walking back into hell.

Oh, boy.

The lobby was still the same, still filled with scientists chatting and having a cup of coffee on their break. I stared at them, one at a time, trying to find the ones who had experimented on me, on my friends. I figured that they would have a sort of evil aura around them. The ambience of a child murderer, or a mad scientist.

None of them had that feel.

Aaron took my arm and tugged me to the front desk impatiently. I dragged my feet purposely, making him stumble and giving myself a small victory.

“Hello, my name is Aaron Davis and I’m here for the internship with Dr. Hanson.”

My head spun.

Nonononononononononononononononononononononononono.

Lia? What’s wrong? Benny asked, sounding groggy. It was only nine or so in the morning.

My brother took me back to the science lab ‘cause he’s going to be working with Dr. Hanson.

Oh… God… Tony sounded horrified. Get out of there.

I can’t! I wailed. I can’t make Aaron suspicious!

Be careful, Birdie, Emily chided me.

I will, I promise. I steeled myself, squared my shoulders, and followed Aaron deeper into hell.

Three minutes, twenty seconds, and two-hundred, forty-three heartbeats later, and we were standing inside of Dr. Hanson’s office.

“Aaron,” he greeted my brother warmly, never even glancing at me. Good. I wanted to keep it that way. I pressed my back against the wall by the door, hands in between my hips and the plaster.

“Greg,” Aaron replied, shaking Dr. Hanson’s hand eagerly. “Good to see you.”

“You as well.” Then his eyes slid to me, narrow and snakelike. He offered his hand. “Hello there. My name is Dr. Gregory Hanson.”

I stared at his hand, debating mentally over whether or not I should shake it.

Finally, I grasped his hand, and released it just as quickly.

“Lia,” I growled. 

“Nice to meet you,” his eyes were taunting me from behind his stupid square glasses. I wanted to punch him, to break his nose again.

“I wish I could say the same,” I muttered under my breath. I saw Aaron’s shoulders stiffen, and realized that I hadn’t been as quiet as I thought.

“Aaron, there are actually some documents at the secretary’s office on the second floor. Do you mind getting them?” Hanson asked.

“I’ll do it,” I volunteered quickly. 

“You’d need an I.D.” He sounded apologetic. Fucking bastard.

“Of course, Greg,” Aaron replied tightly. He glared at me before stalking out.

And I was left with my worst nightmare.