The Perks of Being a Freak (Editing)

79. Warmth And A Foot Massage

“H-he…” I stammered, furious and afraid. “I-I…”

“I am so sorry, Greg,” Aaron darted forward and yanked me away and out into the hallway. “My little sister is a little unstable.”

As soon as the door was shut behind us, Aaron had me pressed against the wall, hands tight on my shoulders. I still had the manilla envelope. I must have grabbed it without noticing.

“What is your problem?” Aaron hissed, his face inches from mine. “Do you understand how important this is to me? Do you just not care? Are you so fucking selfish that you might jeopardize my career?”

“Why did you bring me?” I croaked, half guilty, and half furious. But Aaron couldn’t know. Aaron couldn’t know about my wings, about me. The weapon, and my fail-safes.

“Because science is your favorite class,” he growled. “Isn’t it? I was trying to do something nice.”

Nice. He had been trying to do something nice for me.

“This wasn’t nice,” I snarled. “I hate that man with every fibre of my being.”

“Why?” Aaron pressed me harder against the wall. Was there really no one else in this hallway? Wouldn’t someone have asked why this man had me pressed to a wall very threateningly.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” I growled and shoved past him. Clutching the envelope to my chest, I did the only thing that I could do.

I ran.

I don’t know how long I ran, but I did. I kept my legs moving and my head down. I clutched the thick paper like it held the secret of life. Maybe it did. Maybe it held the secret of my life.

I stopped running when I caught sight of copper hair.

With the back of my hand, I brushed away the tears and watched Jaeb.

She stood outside of a salon, looking in the huge window. Something akin to awe twisted her face. Her hazel eyes were huge.

She didn’t see me, and I realized that I had a choice. I had several, really. I could keep running, go straight home. I could attack Jaeb. Or, I could do the kind thing.

For once, I chose kindness.

Maybe it was because she was wearing the same ill-fitting jeans that she always wore, or that her sweater looked dirty. Maybe it was because my parents are freaking loaded, and I hated them and may or may not have had one of my fathers many credit cards in my wallet.

“Hey,” I called, walking towards her. Jaeb jumped and spun.

For a second it looked like she was going to bolt, so I put both hands up in the classic ‘I surrender’ position. Jaeb stayed still, but she was tense.

“What do you want, Lia?” She demanded angrily. I nodded my head toward the salon.

“I’m angry, and I want a pedicure. You wanna come?” 

Jaeb stared at me as if I had just suggested that she eat raw human flesh because it got rid of freckles.

“Are you… serious?” She winced and rubbed at her arms.

“You look cold, I’m pissed and need something to do. Why not?” I shrugged and walked past her to the doors. “Come on.”

Jaeb hesitated, but she followed me. Just like I knew she would.

Who could resist warmth and a foot massage?